tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29246592974369678112018-03-01T23:59:24.943+03:00The Many Faces-A Life Journal by Aaron SeamanAaronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17073486350500783000noreply@blogger.comBlogger17125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2924659297436967811.post-31557041786096642462008-02-10T16:47:00.001+03:002008-02-10T16:47:59.369+03:00subscription testAaronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17073486350500783000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2924659297436967811.post-38214356329561247152008-02-10T13:46:00.000+03:002008-02-10T13:57:43.647+03:00Coffee Club<p class="MsoNormal">I have spent three consecutive days writing in this café, in this section, served by the same people. I have thrice made this journey on bus 200 from Science Park to Holland Village and walked to this spot.<span> </span>It’s across from Wala Wala where we go to live music on Mondays and down the street from QB House where I get my haircut.<span> </span>The only thing that relates this place to Holland is a lone wooden windmill that rests on the top of the Holland Village mall.<span> </span>It’s small and looks old, as if it were placed there when the British still ran the island.<span> </span>Its funny that a tiny, probably falsely representative windmill could make such a name for a place.<span> </span>Some propagandist must have had the idea that placing the windmill would give some people, like me, such a thrill as they are traveling to Holland Village.<span> </span>What could be more pleasant, quaint, and nicely cultured than Holland Village?<span> </span>They got me.</p><p class="MsoNormal">In an attempt not only to study, but also to catch up on my writing, I find myself needing to escape the confinements of my room and come into this place.<span> </span>It’s a normal place, but in fact, quite unlike any coffee shop that I would normally settle upon.<span> </span>There are no couches, no cozy corners, and no fluffy chairs.<span> </span>I’m sitting in a straight-backed wooden chair, at a small square wooden table.<span> </span>Perhaps it is the squareness of it all that keeps me attentive to my pursuits here.<span> </span>I always sit next to the window.<span> </span>There’s something more natural about it.<span> </span>The trees are meters away, yet I can separate myself from the uncomfortable heat and humidity and still pretend that I am somehow appealing to my nature-loving self.<span> </span>The music here is superb, and perhaps the thing that I love the most.<span> </span>Even westernized coffee shops here often play the ancient Asian music, which I prefer when eating Chinese food, but when I’m trying to relax and organize my thoughts, it is nice acoustic tunes that make me the most content.</p><p class="MsoNormal">My arrival here today was quite unplanned.<span> </span>I made a trip to Clementi in order to buy a new set of sheets, which would be large enough to fit over my mattress.<span> </span>I have the beloved family Dinosaur sheets that also traveled with Emily to Ghana.<span> </span>They aren’t made for a mattress pad, so I must retire them.<span> </span>On my trip to buy sheets I bought the following items:<span> </span>a brush, lotion, soap, top up cards for my prepaid cell phone, saline solution, and hair gel.<span> </span>It wasn’t completely a splurge, as all of the items I purchased were necessary.<span> </span>All of the street market shops had their merchandise tucked away and no sheets were anywhere to be found.<span> </span>After a slight bit of walking I crossed over Commonwealth Avenue and waited for my bus to return home.<span> </span>After a few minutes a bus came, which was not mine, but I had an urge to step onto it.<span> </span>I found out that it was going to Holland Village.<span> </span>My presence here is because of a completely impulsive decision to get on a random bus, and I yet again end up here, in Coffee Club.</p><p class="MsoNormal">I walked in the door today, greeted by the same short smiling woman expecting the same routine:<span> </span>to walk to my table, receive a menu, whip out my laptop, and order a coffee blend of sorts, which I do my best to change every day for the sake of variety.<span> </span>After passing the smiling woman I was greeted with a firm handshake by the manager, an offering for “my table,” and an inquiry of “would you like the usual?”<span> </span>I was quite shocked for a moment and surely had one of those corny smiles on my face that you get when you are in a non-smiling situation, but cant hold in the overflowing giddiness.<span> </span>You all know what I’m talking about.<span> </span>I almost wanted to giggle as I felt like one of those executives that are always greeted by a much greater level of service.<span> </span>After sitting down at my table, I was given a menu after I informed the manager that I don’t have “a usual” and would like to try something different today.<span> </span>After being left to my browsing, which I tend to do for a long time, I looked up to notice the manager giving some instruction to a waiter, most obviously directed towards me. My “usual” Malaysian waiter then came up to my table with a smile and proceeded to say “Mr. Seaman, what can I offer you today?<span> </span>Would you like me to bring you some ice water and some bread?”<span> </span>Now, at this point, I’m thinking to myself, “this is really cool.”<span> </span>And it was.<span> </span>So, I have decided that whenever I see any of you in the future I would like to be greeted with a smile, and a handshake, and a very professional “Hello Mr. Seaman.”<span> </span>I just started thinking that they must have observed my name on my credit card to know my name, but it is apparent that they see me as a valuable and important executive customer.<span> </span>I hope today that I haven’t let them down.<span> </span>Whenever I venture off campus to write or study I try to pretend to be somewhat professional.<span> </span>I think it’s fun.<span> </span>I put on a nice button up, usually wear my Rockports or my shiny black loafers, and put my hair up like I have somewhere nice to go.<span> </span>Today, having been to Clementi previously, I am instead in a drab Israeli beer shirt, khaki shorts, and my big grey ripped backpack slung over one shoulder.<span> </span>My hair is nice today.</p><p class="MsoNormal">Something beautiful happened today.<span> </span>There is something that I love about things like this, the unexpected and in-the-moment things.<span> </span>I didn’t expect to come back to this coffee shop today, and in fact, once arriving in Holland Village, thought it rather silly to maneuver to the end of the street to the Coffee Club.<span> </span>Somehow though, the random decision to get on that bus, to come here, and to walk to this coffee shop, has made this whole story happen.</p><p class="MsoNormal">I opened another story with “I love Tuesdays.”<span> </span>And this is the same:<span> </span>going out, alone, and being me, doing my thing, and having time to do this:<span> </span>to reflect on how much I have been blessed with.<span> </span>Life has been good to me.</p>Aaronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17073486350500783000noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2924659297436967811.post-88000521666747908252008-02-09T21:01:00.000+03:002008-02-10T14:02:21.987+03:00Old Roads Traveled In New ShoesIn October, shortly after Tom’s visit to Washington DC and Boston, I decided to apply to be a member of the ICC, the Israel on Campus Coalition, having reminisced with Tom about the great times I had there. Due to my support of Israel found in my previous semester there, and my willingness to support that pride in this great state, I decided that a trip for this very reason would be very fitting and quite enriching for me to attend. I received an email from the alumni mailer from Tel Aviv University, my former institution, asking for applicants to represent the Israel University Consortium (IUC) in the 32-member organization, the ICC.<br />The ICC is an organization that works to bring together different pro-Israel organizations with various political and religious motivations and perspectives. Though these organizations function very differently from one another, they all have a common goal of supporting the state of Israel, and we are the college/campus edge of that goal. My organization, the IUC, is neither politically nor religiously driven and my primary focus is to promote study abroad and other Israel and Middle East education programs. In my view, and this being the reason for my application, knowledge of Middle East and Israel issues is imperative to the functioning of any country on the world scale. They do and will always play an important role in the world’s politics, economy, and history and should not be neglected in the education of our nation.<br />After applying for this position I was faced with one major issue, which I was forced to reconcile before proceeding in this process. I am not Jewish. And, well, it’s a challenge, to say the least, to become so, nor do I want to do so. I was assured by my organization that this would be okay, as it was actually a main point in my application essay that this organization shouldn’t promote an idea that Israel is only for Jews nor that Jews are the only people that are supportive of Israel. No less, arriving to the Newark airport I quickly realized that I was the only one.<br /><br />This was an exciting day for me. I have learned from this experience that I love to travel to new places, but that I love even more to travel to places I’ve been before. Old roads traveled mean something more. They have memories and experiences that can sometimes only be relived by stepping on that soil once again, taking in the same view, and breathing in the same breath of air that you once loved before. But old roads are still undiscovered and are available for making new memories and taking new steps. I was excited to return to Israel.<br /><br />I did not make it custom to inform my 40 fellow students of my religious beliefs. The reason isn’t because I was afraid, as all throughout my first trip to Israel I was embraced and accepted regardless of my religious status. I withheld this from many because I didn’t want my religion to create a bias by the other students about my opinions. I also wanted to make a point that the Jews are a unique and special people, but in honesty, there is sometimes a sense of superiority among some Jewish people, so I wanted to integrate with them and be one of them for a time. No less, on the first day I chose to reveal this to two friends so that I could have a low level of dialogue about the trip in the perspective of mine, not one of a Jew, as I am not one. This was a great choice as I found it integral to discuss my unique perspectives on the trip with someone. I chose to tell more and more people throughout the trip as we grew closer, and at times, my opinions were very abnormal to the customary Jewish mindset. I also made repeated comments in group meetings that these ideas and perspectives shouldn’t just be for Jews. We do not need to convince Jews that Israel is a good place. It is the world that they want to see the good in the state of Israel, rather than complete dependence on slightly biased media attention to Gaza and the West Bank (and mostly negligence towards the actual undisputed State of Israel). By the end of our ten-day trip throughout Israel, most, if not the whole group, was aware of my non-Jewish upbringing, embraced me for it, was more curious about my opinions on the matters we were discussion, was more interested in my perspective on Israeli issues, and was overall very thankful to have a different voice among them. I had found success and acceptance and truly made the difference that I had hoped to. I was alienated by no one and hope I didn’t alienate any of them, and was able to speak for the non-Jewish community of people in the world who support Israel. This was humbling and ultimately very rewarding.<br />As for me, I learned a lot about myself as well. I went into this trip knowing that I support Israel, but not fully knowing why. I also learned about myself as a person.Aaronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17073486350500783000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2924659297436967811.post-79248901649769418222008-02-08T16:40:00.000+03:002008-02-10T06:32:41.488+03:00Lost and Found<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">I began my long journey on December 20, my Dad’s birthday.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I finished my last final and began the arduous task of fitting all of my worldly belongings into a closet, which was previously used to store, at maximum, a hamper and 10 shirts on hangers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Having a half empty apartment would seem to simplify the task, but instead there was a joint maneuver to move all of David’s things in, and all of mine to be squished into the closet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I wouldn’t label myself as a packer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I can name at least three long nights where friends (all female, as they seem to be good at this) have assisted in the packing of my luggage as A, I did not have the time to do it all alone, and B, they are just so much more trained at fitting large amounts of clothing into small spaces.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Perhaps there can be many thoughts to elaborate on this topic of women and clothing, but I shall save that for another time.<br />I was victorious.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>With exception to a few kitchen items which I left in the kitchen for use by the future residents (David and unknown individual that we shall call Juan).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I had successfully cleared David and Juan’s rooms of my things and stuffed it all into a wedge shaped small closet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Fewer things in life have made me more proud of myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>In fact, calling David over to the bedroom to show him my prize, I could not have been more excited.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>In the mean time, I am receiving text messages from fellow west-coasters (whom we shall not refer to as WCs for reasons that you can figure out), warning me of the feared Boston storms which have a nasty tendency to stall planes and make walks to campus rather miserable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Due to <i>my</i><span style="font-style:normal"> tendency to be last minute though, these warnings were not heeded, and I departed my apartment with about 1.5 hours until my flight (not a suggested time frame around the holidays).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>To cap off my victory against the closet earlier in the wee hours of the morning, and with great thanks to the minimal 5am traffic I am proud to say that I traveled from my doorstep in west Boston, to the gate for boarding (In east Boston) in 27 minutes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Somehow, against the weather, the traffic, and the long waits at security and check in, I managed to circumvent all of these roadblocks and whiz through the airport.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I’ll tell you, after the 18-minute drive, that is only 9 minutes from taxi to gate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>On sitting down in the terminal I had a vision as if it were a marathon and I had won, where the only thing missing was a big red tape for me to break signaling the end.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Amongst the grumpy and sleepy delayed airport-dwellers, I was happy as a bird, despite my lack of sleep, and to top it all off, my flight to Phoenix was not delayed at all, and we boarded within 15 minutes of my arrival to the winners circle, and I was finally out of Boston.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Another semester finished, another apartment gone, a free room for David and Juan, another time to say goodbye to good friends, and an expectation for great things to come.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Asleep in a wink, I managed to remain in hibernation for the entire flight, missing out on the generous donations of one free drink and six pretzels, which are offered on domestic American flights.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It makes me so thankful that they can make the cost of flights so much cheaper by reducing what used to be a meal down to six pretzels and a cup ¾ full of ice and ¼ full of apple juice, my favorite airplane drink (note sarcasm).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>At least they try to make their cutbacks more interesting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I’ve seen so many unique flavors of pretzels and strange crackers over the last years, I only wish I could remember.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Perhaps pretzel bags should become something that I collect.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>On the other hand, international flights, I’ve found, not only do the opposite of American flights by offering real food, but they instead offer so much!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Meals are offered every 4 hours, and in my opinion, delicious ones.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">End rant about airline prices and measly food fares.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">My flight arrived slightly late into Phoenix, which I took as a great opportunity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I originally was flying from Boston to Spokane to see my parents before my departure on December 26<sup>th</sup>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>After much checking on different airlines, the opportunity was opened for me to visit both my Granddad and Grandma for a few all too short days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>For this reason, I was flying to Spokane, then immediately back out to Oakland.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Due to the arrival of our plane then, I took this opportunity to ask for a change, and it was granted!<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Rather than flying from Phoenix to Spokane to Oakland I changed my flight, for no fee, directly to Oakland.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>My luck was still on me!<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I excitedly called my parents, namely my mother who had been traveling to pick up my bags in Spokane for me and told them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I arrived in Oakland in the early evening and made my way to the baggage claim and waited patiently as I watched more and more people hug their families, more people pick up bags off of the belt, and more airplane personnel confirm that all the bags had been deplaned.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Now, I am fairly positive about airline baggage, as none of mine has ever been lost, with exception to one delayed bag to Boston, which was delivered to me by an unkempt Indian man in a 1988 Geo Metro which was stuffed with lost bags.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Aunt Sarah and Granddad waited patiently outside as I ran around the airport trying to track down my bags.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>After being assured that they would arrive on the next flight to Oakland, I met with Granddad and Aunt Sarah with great expectation to receive my bags in the coming hours.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It seems that my luck had finally worn off, having left the city of the Irish.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">That evening was a great reunion.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Sitting around the dinner table with Aunt Sarah and all of my wonderful cousins, I couldn’t be happier than to share about our lives, our trials and joys, our experiences and our loves.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Lauren and Margaret prepared the most delicious enchiladas tasty mango salad (all healthy, of course), which we devoured hurriedly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>These healthy eats were only a ploy, as soon after Sarah presented me with plates and tins covered in the most divine of Christmas snacks, fudge cubes, chocolate squares, and bright yellow powder-covered lemon squares.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>After easily defeating the little man in my head telling me not to eat too much, I did my best to savor and enjoy each piece, indeed, what would the holidays be without fattening sugary treasures such as these.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Saturday was spent lounging In the living room sitting in Grandma’s chair listening to my Granddad tell stories about his life, about his experiences, and about Grandma.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was such a sweet time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I’m getting a bit emotional even typing about it now.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>We miss you and love you Grandma.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"> <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"> <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"> <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"> <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"> <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">That afternoon Uncle Bob came over presenting Granddad with a new computer and a new safe, which we planted, well, in a location that shall not be disclosed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Then, the computer was placed on the kitchen table and a brief tutorial was given to Granddad on how to turn on the computer and log on.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I’m sure he will be a fast learner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I spent the next few hours talking to my youngest cousin Margaret about college and studying abroad, and sitting with Granddad as he proudly showed us his old handguns.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Having grown up in Idaho, one would think I may have seen more guns in my time than a New York city slicker, but I’m sure every time I picked up those guns I must have<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>covered it in fingerprints and held it in all of the wrong ways.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Uncle Bob was generous enough not to say anything and to discretely wipe off my marks after my handling of the beautiful things.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">It was a quick yet priceless 24 hours in California, and before I could even blink, I was back into the airport.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>No bags.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>At this point, I’m sure the people around me were starting to notice the 1.5 outfits that I had been rotating in different combinations as to not seem to be wearing the same clothes over and over again, as the smell knows no combination.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>No less, I boarded the plane and made my way from Phoenix to Boise.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It must be mentioned that after flying so much, sleeping on planes comes second nature to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Upon my arrival to the Boise airport I hurried to the curb to meet Aunt Willa and Uncle Leon, since my parents were stuck in an extra long and perilous snow filled journey to the Treasure Valley.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I was dropped off at Grandma’s to a sleepy dark house, and quickly made myself at home by devouring the left over pizza’s in the fridge and the warm fluffy pumpkin bread that screamed to me from the countertop.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>At that moment, a very defined and intricately painted picture sticks in my head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I heard a distant door open, and out emerged Grandma.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>As I grow older I only learn to love and appreciate my family more.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>It seemed to me like one of those Disney moments when the queen emerges in her silvery hair and the world around her stops to greet her elegance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>This was one of those moments.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The greatest smile came to my face, outside of my ability to even control the joy written all over it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I rushed up the stairs to greet her with a hug and a kiss and we spent a few special moments in the doorway saying our hellos and her passing on another moment’s worth of grandmotherly wisdom.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"> <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Having stuffed myself with the<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>6 pretzels on the plane, one would wonder why I was so hungry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>My parents arrived shortly and I <i>again</i><span style="font-style:normal"> had more pizza and bread because it would be absurd to ask my parents to eat without me, at least, that’s how I can justify the over-compensatory amounts of food that I consumed that night at midnight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Once again, the time with Grandma and the family was priceless and worth every penny of the extra leg of flights.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We cooked up the most delicious roast beef sandwiches for lunch and spent another day relaxing at home as all of us were quite tired from our travels and Aunt Eloise had hurt her leg on the stairs the previous day.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I spent the evening at Aunt Willa’s quietly stealing handfuls of holiday chex mix from the counter and catching up on the happenings in my cousins Shane and Ryan’s lives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I look up to them and am always curious what new thing has captured their attention.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Willa graciously granted us a bag of chex mix, which never even lasted until our arrival home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I was glad to make a double batch for the family, just as Willa had for me, much appreciated by all, I hope.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"> <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">To return to my other story, I called the Spokane airport that morning to see how my bags had been so lost as to not be found anywhere for the last 2 days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Finally, a breakthrough. After a bit of arguing with the woman on the phone, and many frustrating discussions with the baggage services in Oakland, the woman from Spokane went looking for my bags.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>She returned to the phone to inform me that they had been sitting in Spokane for 2 days, were found just hours before, and had been sent to Oakland.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>After a bit of a mental breakdown, I relayed to the baggage woman in Oakland that my bags would be arriving in Oakland from Seattle, and would need to be shipped back to Seattle and over to Moscow for me to at least get before my next departure from the US.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>This woman I like.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>She nicely gave me the flights that she would personally ensure that my bags would be on, so that I could pick them up upon arrival in Moscow, after wearing one pair of pants and two shirts for four days; my undergarments are not open for discussion in this blog.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I requested that my sister go to the airport and get them from the flight, and learned later that night from her that the bags never came.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I consider myself a patient man, and do my best to make sure that I am not the nasty man on the phone that ruins someone’s day who is just doing their job on the other end of the phone line.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Once again I called the baggage claim in Oakland and talked to a man who finally was able to find my case number in the computer and assured me that my bags were in Moscow, which they weren’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Doing my best to hold in my frustration, I asked the man to put in a call to the carrier who was in possession of my bags, and was informed that he had sent an email to them, asking of the whereabouts of my bags.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Patience at this point had worn quite thin, and I asked the man for their phone number, as his assistance would most likely take a few days, which I did not have.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The man then informed me that they do not have a phone.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>At this point, I’m asking myself, is it possible for an airline service not to have a phone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Having decided upon no, I badgered the man for their phone number, and was not successful in finding any breakthrough.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>This is all happening on our morning drive from Nampa to Moscow and my parents can easily see the frustration dripping from my words.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"> <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>“Sometimes, when you are down, all you need is two moist gooey chocolate chip <span style="mso-tab-count:1"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span>cookies completely drenched in frosting.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>-Life advice by Aaron Seaman</p> <p class="MsoNormal"> <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We pulled into a Subway, as they had noted that they now serve breakfast on their signboard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I was not in the mood for a subway omlette, and then excitedly noticed that they had biscuits and gravy, one of my favorite breakfast dishes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The woman working (we shall call her Edna) was sad to inform me that their inventory was low due to it being Christmas eve.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Edna must have seen the sadness on my face as my mood was already rather depressed and did her best to scrape the last bit of gravy onto the final biscuit, and gave it for free.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>This is a good woman.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I’ve been recently informed in my Rehabilitation Engineering course that I am a “big guy,” so it is no wonder that after one biscuit that Aaron’s little tummy was still churning for a bit more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>After asking for a cinnamon roll, Edna must have been sure that I was going to cry, as again, the inventory was low.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The man in the corner had eaten the last cinnamon roll.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I held in my tears and began to walk back to the car at which point Edna once again blessed me with her goodness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>She offered to make me a makeshift cinnamon roll out of cookies and frosting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I am almost lost for words as I begin to describe this microwaved food creation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It reminded me a bit of the ocean a bit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>A big square styrofoam box with a lake of frosting, and two little cookie islands caddy-corner from each other.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>If only Edna had put an umbrella in each cookie it would have been a complete island oasis.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I enjoyed this unique delight in the car and offered bites to my mother, who was immediately concerned with my health as I consumed this box of sugar. It was a divine experience and helped me to forget about the baggage crisis. Thank you Edna.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I came into contact with the baggage claim in Moscow, who were also waiting impatiently for my bags as they knew my desperation and that the airport would be closed after Christmas eve.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>It was just as much a mystery to them as me, and there was nothing to be done but wait.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">On the afternoon of December 24<sup>th</sup>, Christmas Eve, I finally made it home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>As we drove into the city limits I received a call from the Moscow-Pullman airport and was informed that FINALLY my two lonely bags were sitting in the McDonalds sized airport and would be available for me to pick up in the next hour before the closure of the airport.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Emily, Dad and I rushed off to the airport and I was finally reunited with my bags, 48 hours before my departure from the US.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Another blessed moment.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">The normal custom for me is to not unpack my bags and wait until my room is unlivable before actually unpacking and cleaning the mess.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Well, this year, I made quite a mess, but it was only one to be snugged back up into my duffel bag and my brand new beautiful rucksack (thanks family).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>On Christmas Eve we had a wonderful dinner together, the whole family, and were joined by Katie’s parents and Kelly, a friend of Emily’s.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I love the holidays.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The ending of the evening was a rousing round of Apples to Apples, a game whose success is based completely upon knowledge of the judge, and a slight bit of sarcastic humor, which I must say, is most well mastered by the Seaman men.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Andrew, Dad, and I traded wins along with Kelly, and a smattering by the others.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>In the end though, it was a win by our guest, Kelly, that won the Apples to Apples title.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>(Any slight misrepresentations of this game are not open for discussion and complaints will not be addressed…just face it sis, you aren’t funny enough for apples to apples like your two amazing brothers and witty father).</p><p class="MsoNormal">One of my favorite parts of Christmas is the food. It's kind of like Thanksgiving. It feels like every year the dinner table becomes a little bit more crowded. This year we had 10, as far as I can remember, doubling what used to be our family of 5. I only expect it to grow. Against the will of the icy snow-packed roads, we piled into two cars and slid our way out to the Ruby's new beautiful home outside of Moscow for the annual Ruby-Seaman Christmas Bonanza, where there are far too many desserts, far to little time to really catch up adequately, an annual tour of the home for newcomers, and a little gift exchange. I look forward to this every Christmas. As much as I mention how much I am thankful for family, I trust that it is understood that this includes my 2nd families as well.</p><p class="MsoNormal">There are many ways to bring people together. I feel that strawberry waffles is one of my better means to this end. Having such a short time in Moscow, I decided that rather than trying to visit everyone, I would have everyone visit me. Following this breakfast, I had a deep heart to heart with Miss Tina, one of my beloved second mothers. I ran from there to the Tibbals' house to have some tasty Brazilian espresso and another motherly visit. Another mother of mine, Claudia, was my last visit as she pieced together a skeleton. My other mothers, I will see you when I can. I am thankful for you.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Christmas 2007 was a blur, and before I knew it I was scrambling to see old friends, pack my bags, and get to the airport once again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Less than 48 hours after I arrived in little Moscow, I was again on a plane to a new place and a new adventure.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">If you have been keeping track, I so far have taken three flights in Christmas week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>This evening would double my flight score, as I flew Spokane – Seattle, Seattle – Cincinnati, Cincinnati-Newark.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was a long night.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">To quell my recently reinstated paranoia, I discovered my bags on the baggage belt in Newark quite shortly after my landing and made my way for the meeting point of the ICC.<o:p></o:p></p> <!--EndFragment-->Aaronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17073486350500783000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2924659297436967811.post-88345769643364542072008-02-05T11:38:00.000+03:002008-02-10T06:38:00.588+03:00ExploringI love tuesdays. As of last night at 5pm, Else and I were planning to take a flight to Jakarta at 9pm. Plans changed. As of 11pm last night Else, Ludwig, and I were planning to fly to Sumatra tonight. As of 1am this morning, Ludwig and I were planning to take a bus up to Malaysia in order to catch a ferry to northern Sumatra (Oh, Sumatra is an island in Indonesia not far from Singapore). As of 10 this morning, we are all staying here to celebrate Chinese New Year and going to Sumatra on Thursday. This is my life.<div>Let me bring you up to speed, as I attempted to in my last update, but ran out of steam at my trip to Washington DC and Boston with Tom. That was early October. I also related the trials of school for last semester, which mostly sums up the fall and early winter, with exception to one of my most favorite holidays, Thanksgiving. This year I had the joy of hosting my sisters Emily and Andrea in Boston for a great week of sight-seeing, shopping, and brother-sister bonding times. Have I mentioned that I'm blessed with family?</div><div>Thanksgiving is supposed to start with lots of cooking intermixed with long talks in the living room sipping coffee from brightly colored fall mugs (yes we have enough to rotate in season). The afternoon should be spent with the most unexpected of American traditions, stuffing ourselves with massive portions of carbohydrates.</div><div>Well, let me tell you what happened on our Thanksgiving. Bright and early, we put on our Sunday best and made our way to the South Station train terminal catching a train to Plymouth. We were met in an hour by an empty platform with only the few passengers left on the train alighting to a bare parking lot. The next realization came when the four taxi numbers on the sign were not operating, and the bus was not operating since it was Thanksgiving. Soon enough the Sea Breeze taxi arrived and, due to our begrudged kindness, we let the elders have the first cab, and then were in for a battle with two other parties waiting for some transportation to magically appear. It was apparent though, that standing in a parking lot on the back side of a large shopping center, that there wouldn't be any cabs coming to the station. I've said before, and will again. When you're stuck, you just have to go somewhere. In this case, walk. We spent the first few minutes of the walk scheming on how to best position ourselves so that we would catch the cab before the other people. Thus began the long walk into Plymouth. Speaking with a local on the street it was revealed to us that the Plymouth Plantation lay 6 miles down the road. My initial response was to go for a nice 6 mile jog seeing as how I am in prime physical condition and always up for a nice jog (*note sarcasm*) but the girls just wouldn't have it. Here is a fundamental for the world. Sometimes, the women just have a better way of doing things. Now let me tell you, having my aforementioned preconceived notions about the general expected occurrences of Thanksgiving, I never expected that we would be strategically placed along the road, strategically separating me from the girls, in order to celebrate the rich beginnings of our country by hitchhiking in Southern Massachusetts. Soon enough, we were squished in the back seat of a middle aged couple's car on our way to Plymouth Plantation. We talked about our lives, the Native American protest that was occurring at the waterfront, and the Horse Ranch they owned in a nearby town, an obvious interest for us Priest River ranch kids. The dropped us at the entrance, all smiles, and gave us their card in case we needed a ride back to the train.</div><div>Plymouth Plantation is absolutely beautiful. It is a historical recreation of the original settlement of both the pilgrims and the Wampanag Indians who were living nearby to the plantation. When walking around, you meet people dressed up as characters from the original Mayflower trip, who actually stay in character throughout the whole day, accent and all talking about how things were, cooking over open fires, and doing day to day tasks as they would have. Similarly, local indians do the same and share with people about their history. After enjoying this, as Emily and I did with our parents in 2005, we set off, once again, to make our way back to the lonely train platform. As I'm sure you already realize, we still had no car, and felt bad inconveniencing the nice couple for another ride. We once again made our way to the road, and I requested that the girls turn on the flirt a bit to get us a ride. Soon enough, a nice young pilot picked us up. He was working for a local airline doing short flights to the islands off of Cape Cod. As we did before, we shared briefly about our lives and joked about hitchhikers on Thanksgiving, and arrived safely at the train station, just in time for the train, and no money spent on taxi's. All in all, hitchhiking was, by far, the best option for economy and life experience. I guess I just needed a little push from my sisters to engage in my first hitchhiking experience. As an aside, I would like to point out, in relation to the previous comment, that, despite the things I've done in my life, I'm quite a shy person. Emily and Andrea can attest that my outgoing nature is only revealed when I am alone, but with others, I am quite the opposite. Perhaps being abroad then brings out a different side of me, a more extended nature of my person. I like that. Counseling welcome.</div><div><br /></div><div>Upon our arrival back in Boston, we jumped into our Thanksgiving attire after a short sleepy rest. I stood in the kitchen chewing on delectable Strawberry Twizzlers, a recently found love of mine, while pressuring the girls to make short work of their up do's and make up. I apparently haven't learned the life of a man quite yet (patience patience patience).</div><div>Sometime in the previous few years at a family reunion, Emily had been put into contact with our second cousin Allison at a family reunion via her mother Andrea. Allison and her new husband have made several trips to Africa, and now Allison is working at Harvard doing research on Aids help programs in that region. This was an obvious interest of Emily's when corresponding with Andrea, Dad's cousin, and the two were put to email contact and kept in touch during and after Emily's trip to Ghana.</div><div>Somehow, after such a unnatural Thanksgiving day, all the cards seemed to fall into place. Thanksgiving is almost always spent with family and friends, and well, Andrea, Emily, and I are a small small family, though I don't discount the incredible European-trained cooking hands of the two girls. Allison and Joel just moved into a small apartment only a few T-stops from my apartment. Within 15 minutes we arrived to the door of their new Boston apartment and we had our first meeting. Let me tell you though, a first meeting could not have been so fantastic. The had invited another guest, a friend of Joel's whose parents were missionaries in the Philippines. As birds of a feather flock together, we were a flock of very similarly feathered foul. The stories were pouring out. The number of countries visited by our group of six backpackers was enough to spark any conversation with life. What could be more enjoyable than meeting a new side of the family whom we can interact with so beautifully. Allison, cooking for the first time her very own Thanksgiving dinner, had woven together a marvelous spread of traditional Thanksgiving dishes after slaving at the oven the entire day. The nippy weather outside was no match for the work that Allison put that little oven to. It was the little oven that could. And it did. I must now give thanks to Dad's cousin Andrea and Great Aunt Bertie for teaching those hands of Allison's to so perfectly sculpt such a fine Thanksgiving. Have I mentioned that I am thankful for family before?</div><div>The hours of the night rushed forward through a rousing game of Apples to Apples and was capped with the most scrumptious Pecan and Pumpkin pies, homemade crust and baked with love. Could a night get any better? Thanks Allison and Joel.</div><div>On our final day, I embarked on what must be my seventh or eighth Duck Tour around Boston. I never find myself getting tired of driving around the same beautiful and historic city making ridiculous quacking noises at innocent passersby. After a final dinner at my favorite restaurant, Thai Dish with David, we headed out to Middle East for an evening of live music and some pleasant walking though the streets of Cambridge. I spent that night feeling embarrassed of myself as I was forced to walk around with two unmissable X's on each of my hands, informing the bartender that I was not allowed to drink, but more so, informing the cooler graduate students that I was out of place and am to young to be in such a venue. I clung to the girls for reassurance that I was worthy of such a place and soon relaxed into the scene and enjoyed the quiet acoustic tunes of the evening. I just feel cool when I am with my sisters. We said our goodbyes on Friday morning after Andrea's quick visit to the Museum of Fine Arts. Emily and I in the meantime went to REI. Emily did the usual: walking around, desiring of most of the items in the store, while I continued cajoling her to help me choose a rucksack. I found what I was looking for, and here and now, in Singapore have that very rucksack to proudly wear on my back during my travels. Thanks guys! Happy Thanksgiving. I am thankful for my family, close and distant. I am thankful for Andrea's cooking. I am thankful for rucksacks, and live music nights. I am thankful that in three months I no longer have to sport the large X's on my hands at the club. I am thankful for Duck Tours. I am thankful for many things. As far as the topics of this blog go at least these are a few. I am thankful for my sisters. Thanks for making my Thanksgiving 2007 a memorable one Em and Dra. I love you both and miss you greatly.</div>Aaronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17073486350500783000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2924659297436967811.post-23010535058772698052008-01-22T17:46:00.000+03:002008-01-22T17:56:02.522+03:00The Pizza Diaries<div> <!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">Today is my day off.</p> <!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">I got up extra early today (9:00 AM, it’s early for a non-school day) and went to get waffles with the Indo-Clan, my group of friends whom I spent last weekend with in Indonesia.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I’m sitting in a café on Orchard Road, the largest and most fantastic shopping district on the island.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>What could be better than a Tuesday afternoon, eating chicken pizza, coke in hand, and finally a chance to sit down and reflect.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Let me tell you, there’s a lot to reflect upon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>My last update was written sometime in July, sitting in another small café on Dizengoff street in downtown Tel Aviv.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The hustle and bustle is about the same.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The street nearby is strewn with fast buzzing shoppers with their Prada bags, bright new merchandise, oh, and I must not forget, a man trying to sign me up to model for Burger King and McDonald’s advertisements with complements to my “unique features.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>After doing my best to brush him off, he followed me down the street at my heels asking for my contact details while I could only guess where this little encounter could lead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But alas, you will not be seeing my face on the side of a bus with a big piece of cow in it anytime soon.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">The hurried waiters and waitresses are nervously pacing the café.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>One of them has her eyes ceaselessly glued to the floor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>My chicken pizza just arrived.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"> <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">2 slices done.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"> <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Let me quickly play a little bit of catch up for you, as my urge to keep writing seems to dwindle when I am in the United States.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I arrived back to my parents in Moscow and spent the final 5 weeks of my summer in Moscow, visiting many of you, living old memories, and enjoying old friends.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I made a trip down to Nampa to see Grandma and my aunts and uncles from the Seaman clan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Aunts and uncles, grandma’s and granddad’s, parents, and cousins are such a blessing.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>My fondness for my family grows every year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We passed those few days mostly in bright conversation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>My greatest goal on these visits is to glean as much wisdom and eperience off of my elders as possible.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>After telling of my life, my travels, my plans, my goals, and my uncertainties, I recall discussing everything from politics, to current world issues, to an online tutorial of Facebook and a strong argument, by myself, convincing the older generation why this phenomenon of social networking isn’t all bad.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I was treated to a wonderful cup of clam chowder by aunt Willa.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I like to be spoiled and spent two meals, at least, bringing my second cousin Wesley around to the ways of the Seaman family:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>the young kids sit on the stools under the hearth so that the adults can set their old bones on the comfort of the padded chairs.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>He learned quickly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Those stools have served many children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We began those meals with the ever harmonious melodies of thanks for our meal, which is tradition in the family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I am always blessed to look around the circle and the different generations that are all linked in love:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>the lives they’ve lived, the lives they have blessed, the stories they have to tell, and the places they’ve been.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Perhaps those many years can account for the increasingly wavering voices that surrounded me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I also thought of young Wesley standing nearby.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>He doesn’t know the words to the song yet, but he sits quietly, as I once did, subconsciously learning the tunes of thankfulness for our bountiful blessings.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>After finishing our prayer we decided to serve in order of age.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Normally, this wouldn’t be story worthy, but at this particular reunion, and the missing cousins, my father followed me in the age line.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>He felt young again, for a moment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I have been blessed with family.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"> <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">In the beginning of August, we packed up Courtney’s little Honda and drove up to Victoria.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Here though, I must say, that a short 7 hour trip to Victoria is never really a short 7 hour trip.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>After arriving in Seattle we spent the night with Jess and her friends, and made a midnight run (well, more of a fast walk) around Green Lake.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The morning sunshine ignited the little tourists inside of us leading to a day of museums, long walks around the Seattle Center, and a delicious plate of<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>“Clucks and Fries” at no other than Red Robin with Dayna.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I might add that if any of you ever need a gift idea for me, get me a shaker of the Red Robin seasoning, there’s nothing like it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">There’s nothing quite like reveling in the coffee-spruced young culture of Seattle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>All of this went according to plan except for one quite major hiccup.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was realized once we were just too far to turn back, that both of us had neglected to collect our passports in order to pass over the Canadian border.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I frantically called my father and Courtney’s mother as well, and arranged to have our documents overnighted from Moscow to Seattle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Thank God for parents.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>This did not distract us from enjoying a beautiful day in Seattle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>That evening, after all the roommates had arrived home, the 5 of us hopped in Jess’s little white new car and made our merry way to Dicks for milkshakes and rented Indiana Jones from the local store (after far too much time debating the movie selection).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>**slice 4 (not writing in order) ** We greedily downed our milkshakes and all did our best to keep our heavy lids from pushing us into movie and milkshake induced coma’s.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We all failed in our attempts to fight the sleeping urge, and I was unconscious before the opening credits finished rolling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I woke up early hoping that our passports had arrived safely and that we could hurry our way up to Victoria.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b>* 5 slices<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I waited patiently in the living room for the doorbell to ring and a happy UPS man in a pressed brown suit to hand me my passports with a smile.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Well, this is where my predictions were a bit unrealistic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Apparently the overnight mail did not signal the mailman that there was a sense of urgency for this package to be delivered, and due to his apparent confusion about which apartment the package belonged to, he awkwardly placed a “sorry, your package could not be delivered” note on the wall, not close to any door or mailbox.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>This note I only noticed after checking the mailbox for the package all morning, on the hour (it was coordinated with Saturday morning cartoons).<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>At this point, I was determined not to lose another day in Victoria.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We threw our bags and pillows in the Honda with the absurd idea that we could drive around the neighborhood looking for the mailman.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I have had my fair share of luck in my life, but this moment was too good to be true.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I started the car, drove down the first block, and who do we see parked at the end of the street, but the mailman.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>He had apparently made it one block between 8am and 12:30pm.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Finally, we turned north heading towards Anacortes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The ferry was missed, and we were left, two stranded travelers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I proceeded, as is custom in my life, to call my father and ask him to find me information on the internet and give me advice on what to do with myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"> <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">3 slices.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"> <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">After much arduous decision making, we hit the road again, subway sandwiches in hand, one caramel frappuccino nestled in the cup holder, and a bulging bag of bright red Swedish fish, which I took far too much advantage of over the weekend.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Approaching the under-construction border crossing, it was quickly realized that there would be many hours spent sitting in the car, legs uncarefully hung out the window, sunglasses blocking the unrelenting rays, and any article which could serving as a makeshift Chinese fan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The cars inched along.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"> <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">*6 slices*</p> <p class="MsoNormal"> <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We finally made it to the guard, and proudly displayed our identification that we so easily had forgotten on the previous day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>On arriving at the ferry terminal, it was clear that there were far too many passengers to fit onto the 6:00 boat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Cars were piled outside of the ticket windows, let alone the number of cars that we could not see all lined up for boarding.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Needless to say, the legs went back out the window, the sunglasses went back on, and the Swedish fish once again became the object of my attention.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We got on the 9:00 ferry and arrived on Vancouver Island at about 10, all ready to make the “quick drive” to cousin Joan’s and crash on our beds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>If you can recall back to the beginning of this little chapter in the story, I started by noting that a short 7 hour trip to Victoria is never a short 7 hour trip to Victoria.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We traipsed all about the island not knowing that the road to turn on was unmarked and quite near to where we began being lost.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>After a few confused phone calls to Joan, we found our way to the area and pulled into the driveways of a few of her neighbors, who were obviously not Joan, and obviously confused by the lights coming up their steep winding driveways at midnight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We were greeted by a nice reception by Joan and cousin Nate who were busy preparing the Seaman family famous Butterhorn Rolls, which, I hear are being passed around the family quite extensively, and with good reason.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>But, we made it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Twelve hours from Seattle to Victoria.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>A short 7 hour trip to Victoria is never a short 7 hour trip to Victoria.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">The next were some very beautiful days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The best of which was spending time with my young cousins, being the older brother for them to beat up, pull hair, and hang on, very much similarly to how my siblings and I used to do to cousins Ryan and Shane.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Aunt Eloise, Uncle Herb, and my cool cousin Hannah were there for the weekend as well, and the big group of us danced through Victoria and learned the problems with leaving butterhorn batter out too long.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We had to spray down the entire porch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I think I must reiterate that family is a blessing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Thanks for a beautiful weekend Joan.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"> <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">*I cannot eat any more pizza, I quit at 6*</p> <p class="MsoNormal"> <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">After saying my goodbyes, I made my way Boston, only to make my way to New York City to see the sights for a few days with my Israeli friend Yaniv.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But school once again called me out of the fun summer times and I returned to start a grueling semester 5 at Boston University.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Let me describe this semester to you very simply:</p> <p class="MsoNormal"> <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Engineering Physiology</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Systems Physiology</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Statistics and Probability for biomedical engineering</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Signals and Systems in biomedical engineering</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Electronics</p> <p class="MsoNormal"> <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I spent many hours with my textbooks, many more doing problem sets, and many more worrying about the number of hours I needed to complete my work and the number that I actually had.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Relievingly, in October, I got a slight vacation by touring Washington DC with my friend Tom (also from Israel) and showing him my hot spots in Boston.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>A few study sessions were pleasantly interrupted by David and I reminiscing about our travels in the Middle East and Eastern Europe.</p> <!--EndFragment--> <!--EndFragment--> </div>Aaronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17073486350500783000noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2924659297436967811.post-8852537104023486102008-01-11T22:10:00.000+03:002008-02-10T14:05:40.799+03:00On Airports and PlasticI've been planning on starting the blog again since I departed the country on December 26th, but time has barely caught my coattails. And this evening, as I've been stranded in airports all day, I've been trying to decide how to do it. As I was sitting here at this airport restaurant in Istanbul eating my absurdly expensive piece of airport cheesecake, I was trying to think of all of the eloquent ways in which I could begin such a monologue to cover so large a span of time. I chatted with friends, picked at my cheesecake, ordered a second water, and finally brought myself to my blog. Of all things to ruin the moment, the page is translated into Turkish. I finally bring myself to this page again, and I cannot even figure out how to login. I'm a firm believer though, that life sometimes gives you lemons, but sometimes life gives you cheesecake too, but let me elaborate: just as I am about to leave the moment and put off the blog until I arrive in Singapore, my beloved friend Dayna comes online and wants to chat. I reach down to grab my ipod so I can plug the headphones into the computer when "boom," not only do I find my ipod, but my cell phone charger (thought I lost it), a pack of gum (good for popping the ears on long flights), and finally a plastic spoon. Now to some of you, the plastic spoon may seem a little bit, well, unnecessary to note as it is A) used, B) about the width of one tooth, and C) probably going to break from the weight of my ipod, but, in the spirit of making lists, let me tell you what plastic spoons are good for:<div>1) They stick better to your nose. I've never been able to do that thing where you breath on the spoon and it sticks to your nose. Whoever has that ability, I'd like you to be my mentor in life.</div><div>2) Having a plastic spoon reminds me of two things: first, the times when I needed a plastic spoon, and second, the times when I actually found one. The times I found one, well, they are cool, and in the moment much more appreciated, but the memories come when you have pudding all over your face because it was all stuck inside and I turned it over and it was not coming out and I shook it all out on my face...those are the moments I live for.</div><div>3) The truth is that my friend Thalia got me the spoon from a man who found it in his drawer at a Kibbutz when I missed breakfast and wanted some yogurt. Now there is a clean spoon.</div><div>But I digress: Let me come back to the moment. It's 9:36pm in Istanbul Turkey. I departed Tom's house this morning (A great friend in Tel Aviv whom I have had the pleasure of staying with for the last week), at 8:15am in the same time zone. So, I had these great ambitions of arriving on time in Istanbul around 12:45, taking a cab, and spending the day in the city before my 11:55pm flight. Somewhere along the way, something happened to our plane. They didn't really give us details, which in my opinion is a good thing. There are times in life where I really don't want the details. If the wing of my Turkish Airways plane fell off and we are using that plane once it is "repaired," I don't really have a desire to get on. Anywho, the plane was delayed for 6 hours with an estimated departure time of 4:00. This cut my day in half, so I couldn't leave the Tel Aviv airport, and I currently must fend for myself against the Turks in the Istanbul airport. I have spent far too many hours in this airport.</div>Aaronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17073486350500783000noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2924659297436967811.post-66532552909476595512007-06-14T19:15:00.001+03:002007-06-14T20:28:50.765+03:00new roads traveledYes, yes. I hate to admit it, but the month of may has passed without a single update, but I would like to inform you all, warmly, that my sun still shines, the beautiful beaches of Israel are still golden, life is still beautiful, and I am perfectly happy sitting down at this small cafe in downtown Tel Aviv finally finding the time to tell you all this:<br />That we never stop learning, never stop growing, and I'm sure that we never stop having fun. I also heard today from a very dear friend that we never stop fighting the same battles and that the world will challenge us every day. But it is how we approach the challenge that defines who we are and what we will become. Well, I am not only experiencing that now myself, as I try to travel around the world with hopes of understanding the way it turns, and the creation which lives upon it, but am also experiencing it through others. Surrounding Israel, Gaza and Lebanon are both in civil war and I find that at this point in the sentence I have not much to say except this: Same story, same problem: the religious have chosen war over love and acceptance. Is it that simple? No, not really, but the Miss America "world peace", I think, still stands a chance in this world if we open our hearts to a different flavor of living.<br />But, dispite that, it is from my own experiences that I have learned the most, and for your personal enjoyment, I shall recall a few of my own learning experiences from the last month.<br />1. If you dont study until exam period, you have to study a lot more then.<br />2. Dont try to pass someone on the sidewalk if there is no room to pass them, unless you dont mind tripping, and flailing your arms down the street trying to keep from actually face-planting on the cement.<br />3. Energy drinks...they do give you energy...caution: only use when absoultely necessary (see number 1)<br />4. Don't assume that crossing from Israel to Egypt is like crossing from Washington to Idaho...some borders may be a little bit less relaxed than others.<br />5. (as stated previously) mapa and carta are the two most universal words in the world, and can be helpful.<br />6. If you use your laptop procrastinating on email and talking to friends, you may not have enough battery to finish your homework.<br />7. When you're closer to the equator and it's really hot outside...those are both good signs that sunscreen is a good idea.<br />8. Dont leave your aloe vera on your bed in a hostel. Someone may have learned lesson 7 the same day and be a little bit greedy...<br />9. Make friends with internationals. When you can have dinner with 5 people, and througout the meal, speak English, Hebrew, Danish, Swedish, French, and German, then you can trust it's been a good time.<br />10. Make sure you sit on the correct side of the street when waiting for the bus.<br />11. In some parts of the world, ice cream has a tendency to melt faster than others. Beware, even your favorite pair of jeans may be in danger.<br />12. Even though it's annoying when Israeli's always say "it will all be okay," and dont actually answer your question, things usually do turn out okay.<br />13. Sushi is delicious, and if you've avoided it for 19 years, you dont know what you're missing.<br />14. Reminder: Parents are incredible.<br />15. Never stop asking questions until you know all of the answers. <br />16. You wont ever know all of the answers.<br />17. Take advantage of other people's mothers, you can never have too many moms, and they are all amazing. (You know who you are)<br />18. The simplest email or phone call can make someones whole day, and only take a few moments.<br />19. Bitterness never accomplishes anything.<br />20. Learn from others' experiences, someone might have walked in your shoes at some point.<br /><br /><br /><br />When I last wrote I had just returned from my trip to Europe, which was incredible. If you haven't yet read of the amazing adventures of Aaron, David, and Gretchen, then please help yourself to the previous update, if you would like. After returning home, I soon came to revelation number 1 (see above), which has played a significant role in my absence from the blog. The following 6 weeks were spent with my nose in the books, sometimes literally, often followed by a nice shape of wrinkled pages or a spiral notebook spine gently indented onto my face. My parents can testify that I spent many nights stressed about the amount of work to come. But here I am, alive, and well (except for this nasty sunburn), with another semester done: I made it, and am now onto my third year of college. I can hardly believe how fast my life is flashing before my eyes, so filled with blessing.<br />If you have been keeping up with all of my updates you will remember my initial response to the not-so-clean room, with the naked white walls just begging me to plaster them with color. Shortly after returning from Europe, David and I visited our friendly neighborhood Office Depot and proceeded to hang up all of our maps from the trip on the walls and hung a large Israel flag under the lamp to impede its brightness. Finally, we had a home! And, in light of this new beginning, we officially named our map room "The Cartorium." Sounds cool eh? Sometimes, depending on your mood, it's nice to enter a place with a name that is yours, let me explain. If you're in a mysterious mood you can invite someone saying: "Hey, you wanna come into my...<span style="font-style: italic;">lair</span>." Or, in other cases, it could be deemed the "land of fun" for more light-hearted experiences. But<span style="font-style: italic;">, The Cartorium</span> has no choice but to highlight our extravagant knowledge, amazing study habits (of course we dont procrastinate ;), and of course, our well traveled high-society life style :) (take this all with a large grain of salt, please, perhaps even a salt lick)....needless to say, we were proud to finally enjoy our home, though it was short lived.<br />On the week of May 28, I turned in one 17 page paper, took three engineering exams in three days, and followed up with a paper asking us to write about all of the wars of Israel between 1948 and 1982 in 5 pages...yes, I am complaining because the paper was too short! Imagine that!<br />But the time has finally come, that I am a free man in Israel, yes, a tourist, and can enjoy the splendors of it without thinking a single thought about work, alas, my terrible sunburn (I dont recommend sleeping on the beach). <br />The only interruption to these 6 weeks of intensive studying was a nice trip to the North with the overseas student program including some beautiful hikes, and some time to reconvene with friends who I had not seen since the studies began.<br />But that day finally came, June 7th, when my studies were finally over.<br />As a few of you may have figured out, I like to travel.<br />What I also like, is to be visited, and to travel with friends and family.<br />Well, God has chosen once again to give me a little blessing.<br />My beautiful sister Emily and friend Joy arrived on May 22 and did their best not to distract me through finals. Since then, they have been traveling around Israel with me, and most recently went to Jordan. We traveled around the North of Israel in a rental car and saw many of the sights that we had read so much about growing up in Sunday school.<br />On Monday morning they left me on my own in Tel Aviv to spend a final week with my friends, and have been in Jordan and south Israel. Today they depart for Egypt. Tomorrow, another beauty in life awaits: my amazing parents are making yet another pilgrimage of sorts....a pilgrimage to visit one of their children across the globe. Soon after their arrival we will also travel to Cairo by bus, to meet with Emily and Joy (I did prearrange the visas, dont worry). In fact, at this point my parents are saying goodbye to civilization for the next 48 hours to be sitting on planes, busses, trams, and taxis to make their way, 10 time zones, to Tel Aviv. I can hardly wait.<br />So this is my life right now. I'm still in the same coffee shop, having spent a nice week with friends, but also some wonderful time alone. There is jazz music playing across the street, my parents arrive to see me tomorrow afternoon, and my sunburn is slowly making its way to a nice base tan :). I am content. Life has so much to offer each of us in it's own special ways. <br />In case you are curious about the less "update-ish" part of my life:<br />Perhaps, for me, I could attempt to write what I think life is offering me right now, a set of goals, per se: this is what is on my mind:<br />1. Live, love, learn.<br />2. Study next spring in Singapore.<br />3. Write the perfect song for Rachael and Tim's wedding.<br />4. Bargain for a cheap taxi from the airport tomorrow (and impress my parents with my new found Hebrew skills)<br />5. Decide whether or not to go to Dubai in three weeks.<br />6. See my beautiful Grandmothers and Granddad soon after I get home.<br />7. Find a job in Moscow, and pick between jobs in Boston.<br />8. Learn to be more open to other people's views.<br />9. Be more forgiving.<br />10. Remember how important people are, yes, even more important than my schedule for the day.<br />11. Do laundry (yes, that ice cream stain on my pants...its gotta go)<br />12. Ask for my bill from the waiter without him realizing that I'm not a non-native speaker.<br />13. Go hang gliding and skydiving.<br />14. Enjoy every moment for what it is, and spend life making the most of it.<br /><br />Good luck.Aaronnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2924659297436967811.post-7354906874067434002007-04-21T23:39:00.000+03:002007-04-23T00:15:20.679+03:00Post-Europe not-so-tid bitI'll warn you now, this post is going to be longer than a Slovenian mini-golf course (you'll get it soon, don't worry.) I'll do my best to put headers so you can either skip around or at least know where you stopped reading if you want to come back and finish later! There are also links to each album of pictures according to location so you can look at pictures as you read!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >Europe 2007</span><br />Finally my third European adventure has come.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Days 1,2, 3: Rome - <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/7890419@N03/sets/72157600095175787/detail/">Click here to see photos of Rome</a></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/209/465382437_f77dabb0f3_m.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 295px; height: 221px;" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/209/465382437_f77dabb0f3_m.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />My trip began with a friend. I arrived at my hostel in Rome to find two guys in my room. One aussie was sorting photos on the table (I know, real photos, weird, what happened to digital), and one other kid who I woke up from his nap not even realizing he was there! We all got to talking about traveling and places that we've been, but I shortly had to leave to the train station to meet Sabrina, my long lost friend from Boston who is currently studying in Padova, a city outside of Venice. I invited Chris (the one I woke up) to come with me as he was around my age and seemed to have himself together. So Chris and I head out to the station and continue our conversation until we finally find Sabrina. It is a large train station (the largest in Rome) so our only way of finding each other was to meet by the giant "Gilette" advertisements. Finally, we have been reunited! The three of us made a beeline for some fat free, no cream, no flavor Italian pasta...(haha) and enjoyed a nice meal just down from the coliseum and other main roman sites. It was Chris's second day in Rome so he showed Sabrina and I around some of the sites in the area until we headed for bed. We decided to stick together cause we were getting along so well, so the next morning Chris, Sabrina, and I headed out bright and early to get into the largest line on earth: the entrance to the Vatican. We waited for a few hours and happened to make friends with the people in front of us in line, which included two students from Turin (Americans) and mothers and family, etc. So we finally get to the door and the grandmother goes to the window: "9 tickets please!" Well, as far as my engineering skills have allowed me, there were only 6 people in their group. She's buying tickets for us! (I screamed only on the inside). And these tickets are not to wally world, they are for the Vatican, one of the most visited sites in the world. Well, we did our best to thank her, and once we got in she just says "enjoy!" and leaves it at that. I enjoyed the people, so we stayed with them throughout the museum, but the generosity of this woman overwhelmed me!<br />Anyways, the Vatican was wonderful. St. Stephens chapel is ENORMOUS. And it's neat that you can walk across the borders to a new country so easily :). I did want a passport stamp though :(.<br />On day 3 we went to the catacombs first thing in the morning near the Basilica of St. Sebastian. This was one of my favorite monuments in the world. I've been trying to go to the catacombs in Paris for my last 2 visits, and both times have had a random reason for why they were closed. The tour guide was this Indian woman and she had a haunted voice, I mean, it sounded like she should be narrating a Halloween movie! Her voice made the tour that much cooler. She showed us all of the tunnels and the evidence they have found for the different uses of the catacombs. If you ever get the chance to go to catacombs in any city, do it.<br />Then Chris went to the hostel to do his laundry because he had already done the main sites in Rome. So Sabrina and I made our way to the coliseum, Palatine hill, the Roman Forum, the Pantheon, Trevi Fountain, the Spanish Steps, and many other sites along the way. It was a big day, but incredible! So much history to absorb in so much time!<br />To end our time in Rome, we walked across the city to a pizza place Sabrina had heard about. Got a chance to see some of the sites again at night time, and eventually ended up in this tiny little place in a cute little area south of the river. This cozy little pizza place was packed full of people and we found three seats at the end of a table and enjoyed some wonderful Italian pizza! What a way to go out eh?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/167/466493244_ebd5c66c99.jpg?v=0"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 219px; height: 293px;" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/167/466493244_ebd5c66c99.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">Days 4, 5: Pompeii, Naples, Mt. Visuvius - <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/7890419@N03/sets/72157600101294548/detail/">Photos</a></span><br />This little excursion was only supposed to consume one precious day, but due to lack of transportation, it had to take two. Sabrina went home in the morning so it was just Chris and I. We got to Pompeii around noon. Pompeii is amazing. Everything here is so well preserved, mosaics, floor tiling, paintings, fountains, columns, homes, streets, pots...the list goes on and on. I cannot convey to you how impressed I was by this site. Not only that, the next morning I got the wonderful opportunity of climbing to the top of my first volcano! And there was even steam coming out!!! woo!! Included in the pictures are some shots of Naples, which lies at the base of Visuvius, but Chris and I only got a chance to wander the streets for a few hours.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />Day 6: Florence - <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/7890419@N03/sets/72157600101076135/detail/">Photos</a></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/225/466752909_e09506eda4_m.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 288px; height: 216px;" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/225/466752909_e09506eda4_m.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Chris and I made our sad parting and I continued on alone to Tuscany and northern Italy. Florence was a pleasant surprise. I spent the day mostly walking around knowing I did not have the time to go to museums. I shopped in the market, was tempted (very strongly) to buy a leather jacket, which I loved, and then made my way across the river to the Boboli Gardens and Belvedere Fortress. Some beautiful views and wonderful relaxed places just to rest and enjoy the people. It was a day of walking, and thinking, and singing, and just enjoying the simple things. Florence gets a "best of from Aaron" award for most random event of the trip (those of you from quizzing days in High School can appreciate this): I was walking around in the market and walked into this little hat shop. I'm trying on this cool grey hat and who do I see out of the mirror? Veronica Michum!! A fellow quizzer from my high school days from Yakima! I proceeded to let my jaw drop at the irony of this situation that we would run into each other on this day in a hat shop in Florence. Turns out she's studying in Malta (study abroad from WSU). She was being visited by her mother Karen and sister Katie and we talked for a few minutes. Definitely most random event award goes to Florence, Italy.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/169/465865786_53dcfa8c78.jpg?v=0"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 262px; height: 196px;" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/169/465865786_53dcfa8c78.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">Day 7: Cinque Terre - <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/7890419@N03/sets/72157600098240780/detail/">Photos</a></span><br />This is perhaps one of the most beautiful places in the world. You move between 5 cute little colorful cities and between them scale up these mountains until you are high up on the slopes, lording over the cities and the ocean. It's nature in every direction when you're up there. I cannot explain it. I also did have the wonderful chance of finding the best Baccio milkshake in the entire world. It's in Vernazza if you're interested :).<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />Day 8: Venice - <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/7890419@N03/sets/72157600098249650/detail/">Photos</a></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/218/465946523_d10327670f_m.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 215px; height: 288px;" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/218/465946523_d10327670f_m.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />I must accept that when a person is traveling by train across Italy in 5 days, he takes a lot of trains and has a lot of changes. Well, I was bound to have my one hiccup. I arrived in Venice around 11. I had about 2 minutes of charge left in my cell phone and Sabrina had arrange my hostel for me. I figured out how to get to the bus stop while Sabrina is frantically trying to figure out what I'm doing and how she can help, hoping that I'm not dead, beaten, or lost in the middle of Venice. It was just too late to catch the 10;50 bus to my hostel. I went and found myself a snack and waited at the bus stop for one hour. I finally found the blue bus that I was told to catch which had no markings on it except that it was blue and the ride began. I had asked the driver for the Hotel Poppi which was around my stop, but I found out later that the stops are very far apart in this area (5km) so when I got off, not being careful about which stop "near" the hotel I was to use, I was on a highway on the outskirts of Venice with only street lights and a Hotel Poppi sign a ways down the road. I made my way with my rucksack to the hotel and was told that a cab would cost me 35euros at this time of night and that the bus would not be coming again. I fretted for a while and just accepted my fate and got a gorgeous room (their cheapest) in the Hotel Poppi. I took this to my advantage. I took 2 showers in my 6 hours there, made use of the ENTIRE bed during my rest (I hope) and got a chance to catch up on current events on the BBC. In the morning I was blessed with a free breakfast and got as much as I wanted as well as a free cappuccino! (Maybe I could do this more often!) But alas, the pocketbook only allowed me one beautiful hotel on my trip to Italy. :)<br />My day in Venice was similar to my day in Florence. I walked around, a lot. I enjoy just seeing the things, and watching the people, and stumbling upon little treasures in the nooks and crannies of the world. In the afternoon I met up again with Sabrina and she showed me some of her favorite bridges and then treated me to a delicious meal (Thanks Sabrina!!) at the water's edge. Beautiful day.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/180/465980739_0e181a342d_m.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 265px; height: 199px;" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/180/465980739_0e181a342d_m.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">Day 9: Ljubljana - <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/7890419@N03/sets/72157600098268912/detail/">Photos</a></span><br />After my mishap at the Hotel Poppi in Venice I was pretty much ready for smooth sailing. I got on the train at 10:04 pm in Venice. We got to the first stop and really did stop. For a long time...and we waited...and waited...until the man came onto the train speaking Italian saying that some problem with the tracks on the normal route had caused our 2 hour delay and we'd have to go the longer way to Ljubljana. Well, there wasn't much that I could do. I spent the next 6 hours sleeping, but trying to stay awake, not having any idea how long till the Ljubljana stop and not wanting to stay on the train too long. Fortunately, the conductor remembered my destination (and probably the large rucksack on my back, my English vocabulary, and the always wonderful "tourist confusion look." After the Venice mishap I was just ready to nestle into my bed and enjoy the hostel and my first night in Slovenia. I get out of the train, the only person to get out of the train I might add, and there is nothing there. There are many unlit buildings, no people, the taxi parking spots are empty, and I had no map. What does a man do now? Well, I just started to walk. I walked for a few minutes just thinking about all of the terrible things that could happen to me in the middle of the night in Slovenia, but an shortly interrupted by the soft glow of a taxi light in a parking lot. Horray! I realize then that I am almost out of euros, but get in the cab hoping that the decreased prices in eastern Europe would be enough to get me by. I had a total of 12 euro and 12 cents in my pocket. I get to the hostel and the meter reads 12.50. I felt so bad, but the taxi driver was nice enough to accept my poor little puppy dog face for the remaining 38 cents. Now my instructions were to call David so he could let me in since it was after reception hours. But wait! My cell phone died in Venice! hmm...So once again, Aaron knows not what to do at 4am in the middle of a very foreign country. At this point I was a little flustered. I set my bag down on the sidewalk (haha) and left it there (no one was around, right?) and began my journey to find a pay phone. So here I am, walking down the streets of Ljubljana at 4 in the morning looking for a pay phone. Once again my persistence is rewarded and I find one at a strip mall a few blocks from the hostel. I get to the phone and it only takes cards. I think..."hm, dad told me never to call international with a pay phone," something every young boy should be taught. Well, I had no choice. I stick my card into the machine...It doesn't fit! I quickly realize that, like some other places I've been, you have to purchase a phone card at a shop to use local pay phones. Well, nothing is open! (I internally yelled at the machine). Then, "ding!' I see a little sticker pasted to the side of the phone that has an 800 number for international dialing. I am saved! I dial the number and get to the international operator! She gets my information and bam...my credit card is rejected. MY CREDIT CARD IS BEING REJECTED AND ITS 4;30 IN THE MORNING!! Of all days for my card to quit. I pull out my bank card...REJECTED! Well, this is just uncalled for. I hung up on the woman (I politely said goodbye) and then proceeded to call again hoping to electronically input the numbers of the cards and avoid any potential mistakes by the operators on the other end. IT WORKED! busy signal....<br />geez. this is just outrageous. Haven't I had enough?! With all of my might I pick my chin up and try the phone again, one last time. I can tell you this was one of the most exciting moments of my life: on the other end the phone, I hear in an irritated, groggy voice: "Dude, what are you doing." "DAVID!!!! LET ME IN!!!" He comes to his senses and decides I deserve to get into the hostel and waits for me outside as I run back to the hostel. Thanks to the heavens my bag was still there, and I finally made it to my bed in Ljubljana, Slovenia.<br />The main attraction of Ljubljana is the castle. Recently installed is the new "Fernicular Railway" which carries weak and aged souls like David and I, up the hill to the castle. They were obviously excited about this little glass box that moves up the hill, that they posted signs about it everywhere! It was the running joke of the trip, "Where's the fernicular railway! I need it now!" Ljubljana is a very picturesque town, and the views from the castle of the Julian Alps rising over the city are absolutely stunning. A nice beginning point for eastern Europe. By the way, best kabob I've ever had: Ljubljana, Slovenia. Everyone please clap for the amazing kabob shop.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Day 10: Bled - <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/7890419@N03/sets/72157600098272616/detail/">Photos</a></span><br />We rented another car!!! From Tel Aviv we made a plan to drive around the Balkan states by car and picked up our car in Ljubljana. We got a free upgrade from a 2 door, no ac, probably doesn't work kind of car, to Gretchen. Gretchen is our beautiful little silver 4-door manual transmission wonder. Except David can't drive stick, so Gretchen became my woman (That's why I got to name her :)) Everyone meet Gretchen:<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/199/466415585_de089442fd.jpg?v=0"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 278px; height: 371px;" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/199/466415585_de089442fd.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Anyways, we drove up to our first little mountain adventure:<br />Bled is a beautiful little town a few hours north of Ljubljana in the alps. It has a beautiful castle which is tightly wedged between a mountain and plummeting to its death in Lake Bled. It is perched up so high and just curves over the boundaries of safety. None the less, we made our <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/217/465971786_59feb63713_m.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/217/465971786_59feb63713_m.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>way up the curving pathways to the castle and its amazing view of the world. The afternoon was spent hiking through a ravine carved out by a gorgeous little river and ending with a glorious waterfall under a bridge that makes the area look like Rivendell (elf city in lord of the rings). We watched the sunset over Lake Bled and then as we were walking up the hill looking for food stumbled upon a little mini-golf course. This is one of those moments when a smile comes to your face and you just look at each other and both know. I mean, who goes mini-golfing in slovenia? We do! This course was completely made out of concrete and consisted mainly of different configurations of potted plants to block your path to the hole. But there was a special hole Of all the golf holes I've seen in my life this is the best. In fact, it deserves a "best of from Aaron" and I might add, I won the hole. This hole consists of a ramp curving upwards for about 10 meters. No curves, no potted plants, just a big hill. Sounds simple right? Well, try getting the ball up with a large pack of americans taunting you from the hole behind. No, we didn't know them, but they decided to make fun of us for our inabilities to hit a ball up the hill. This hole is not one to practice accuracy as you must bring your putter about 180 degrees from the surface of the tee and swing with almost all of the strength that you and your mother have combined. David never finished the hole. After three large swings Aarons ball made it to the flat, without hitting the back barrier and rolling back down the hill. Best Mini Golf Course: Bled, Slovenia.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/186/465959884_a83ac5b6f4.jpg?v=0"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 384px; height: 511px;" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/186/465959884_a83ac5b6f4.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Our plan at this point was to drive to another alpine city Bovec from which I was going to go hang gliding from a mountaintop. So we're driving...driving...driving and then get what we assumed to be a toll road. It was our first toll road in eastern Europe so we didn't know what to expect. So the man asks us for our passports. Well, we just thought it might be custom since we have a rental car and such. We pass the kiosk and enter a tunnel. But this is no ordinary tunnel. This tunnel goes for about 15 kilometers under the Julian Alps. About midway through the tunnel David says "Dude, I think we're in Austria." Not even noticing that the man asked us for our passports, I just asked David why. "Well, the dude asked us for our passports, we're crossing under the alps, and I just saw a sign that says "Klaggenfurt." Hmm, Klaggenfurt. Not a word you hear often in the Slovene language. After accepting our fate, and the multitude of German signs in our view, we stopped at a gas station and had a little chit-chat. We decided that we'd let fate take it course. Now I've never "accidentally" ended up in a new country, so I thought I'd enjoy the experience. We go into the convenience store as we are at this point quite humored by the situation. One thing you should know about the world is that in 99% of languages if you say “mapa” or “carta,” people know what you're talking about. The woman finds us a nice map of Austria and while we're at it we decided we should probably have a map of the rest of the countries we're traveling to as well. We get back to the car and decide, what does one do with a free day in Austria? Go to Vienna! Those of you particularly astute at geography will know that Vienna is on the other side of the country from Slovenia. Well, we were on a mission, so yes, we drove the extra 4 hours to get to Vienna, Austria. David, my navigator, then pulls out our new map and begins unfolding it, foot, by foot, by foot, until our poor little Gretchen has a map spanning across the entire windshield with room to spare. So here we are with a giant map stretched throughout the car, and can do nothing but drink in the situation. I took the next moment when I could catch my breath (yes we're still laughing at this situation and the fact that we're actually going to go to Vienna, and that our map has the capacity to start a small bonfire) to call my beloved sister Emily and share with her my new found joy in "stumbling into countries."<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Day 11: Vienna - <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/7890419@N03/sets/72157600098188983/detail/">Photos</a></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/229/466078947_31c42f8a82_m.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 276px; height: 207px;" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/229/466078947_31c42f8a82_m.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Our day in Vienna was a delight. We walked around and looked at the beautiful architecture and learned some of the history of this magnificent city. Spent the morning at the Shunbrun Palace, summer palace of the Hapsburgs. The streets here are lined with musicians. Vienna, here, gets a "best of" award from Aaron. Best street performers in the world, and here is why: In no other country will a 90 pound Asian woman pull a piano out into the middle of the street and play Beethoven's "Moonlight Sonata." As we were deciding how to spend our evening we decided that, though we were on tight budgets, that one could not go to Austria and not enjoy some music. We ended up going to a nice show, in the Palace, of Mozart and Strauss accompanied by a ballet and opera intermixed throughout. Quite a pleasure to watch and a very appropriate ending to a day in Vienna.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/195/466179562_9f0880adaf_m.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 282px; height: 211px;" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/195/466179562_9f0880adaf_m.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">Days 12, 13: Bosnia and Sarajevo - <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/7890419@N03/sets/72157600098513287/detail/">Photos</a></span><br />When you drive out of Croatia you pass through the passport control and customs, which contains about 15 different stations for cars to pass. You drive across no man's land and arrive in Bosnia where there is one small building in the middle of the road, which handles both incoming and outgoing traffic. There was a large traffic jam coming the other direction. Immediately upon driving into this country it was different, cheaper, dirtier. The roads were smaller, buildings weren't as nice, people were walking everywhere, and we were no longer in the European union. But after living in Nepal, or perhaps for some people, just not being concerned with luxury, I adapted very quickly and began LOVING Bosnia. This is a country where the two international words for "map" (discussed above) do not apply. I go into a gas station to get a Bosnia map and the woman just couldn't understand what we were asking for. She tried really hard, bless her heart. At first we thought “mapa” worked as she excitedly walked across the room and picked us out some motor oil. We shared a laugh and signaled her error and tried again. At the point when she said "do you have visa?" we decided that this communication barrier was too large. We made a pit stop and headed down the road. The other thing to notice when you enter Bosnia is that all of the signs change to Cyrillic letters so we cannot follow signs. We weren't exactly lost, just weren't sure we were going the right direction :). I stopped into a hotel down the road hoping that a hotel might have better luck with English. VOILA! they have a son! It was very beautiful to see this woman's joy as she quickly called her son so that he could translate for her. It used to be in Europe that only the younger generation spoke English. Well, in some of the slower developing countries they are now in this phase. The boy came out and him and I mixed our English and hand signals and he got his mother to draw the route on the map. Well, wonderful, I can read my map, I just cant read the sings! I ended up getting nowhere with directions as I was asking her to spell Sarajevo in Cyrillic...I ended up just deciding to find out if we were going the right direction, so I stuck out my arms, one in each direction and said: "Sarajevo?" The woman got very excited because we obviously had just had a communication connection. She pointed down the road to the south and we were on our way. To our great fortune, down the road at the first big junction, some of the signs turned to english, and we were saved. We made our way through the beautiful Bosnian countryside stopping to take pictures and really enjoy the drive. Bosnia gets a "best of" award from Aaron for being in the top 5 most beautiful countries in the world. Arrived in Sarajevo in the afternoon and thus begins "The real drivers ed test." Sarajevo is...slightly larger than Moscow, and with...slightly less organized streets. We got lost for a while, and if anyone has ever driven in Europe, you know what it's like to be going down cobbled streets about 10 centimeters wider than your car and probably a car coming the other direction. But, I must tell you, that I returned the car at the end of the trip scratch-less and the beautiful Gretchen I had originally received. We finally found the hostel. But in this part of the world, hostel means something more like "small room finding agency." These places just rent out rooms in random houses. So, since we had to find this house in the confusing streets, a non-English speaking man gets into the car with us. He guides me by making these annoying waving motions with his hands like just pointing one direction isn't good enough. He usually had his hands together like he was making a fish then would curve them around multiple times in the direction I was supposed to go, just in case I didn't see the first time. We wound through the small streets up to this hill and parked in this little yard on the grass and he led us into a little apartment, which we shared with two american girls studying in Geneva. The man then took out a black bag from his pants and poured about 25 keys on the bed. He then proceeded to try each key in the door multiple times until he was satisfied with a key that would work for our door, the outside door, and the door to the yard. I might say this man has an organization problem, but he probably just left his black bag of keys in the washer or something. So here we were, finally in Sarajevo, one of our key destinations on the trip, and rightly so.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/207/466182217_a0b7fda1f0_m.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 345px; height: 259px;" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/207/466182217_a0b7fda1f0_m.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />We spent the evening walking through the old quarter of the city complete with car-less cobblestone streets, cathedrals, mosques, shops, and BUREK! Bureka, in Israel, is a small rectangular pastry filled with cheese or potato, or whatever. Burek, in Bosnia is another story. It's the same concept except the wrap it like a cinnamon roll and it's a very large pastry. But Burek do not quite bake up like cinnamon rolls, so to me, they look more like intestines...But I chose to have the experience and ordered a potato Burek for 2 marks and enjoyed this little delight as David and I continued to walk. We ended up at a WWII monument with a flame that is always kept burning. Not only do I enjoy the culture of Bosnia, but the history there is endless. Most recently, the 92-95 war with the Serbs, which most of us should be familiar with. You can look around in many areas in the old city and see remains of wars on buildings and streets. We spent the next day visiting landmarks and museums. Bosnia gets another "best of" from Aaron award: smallest museum in the world. Fortunately for them, there is a corner after the ticket counter. So after paying for our tickets we walked through the doorway to the museum, which consisted of one room, with some pictures and weapons, most of which could probably be spread out on an average sized dining room table without stacking. We were a little disappointed. But it was still interesting. We visited the Latin Bridge, the location of Archduke Franz Ferdinand's assassination (and perhaps the starting point of WWI). Our last stop for Sarajevo was the tunnel museum. When the serbs had Sarajevo surrounded, the UN made a request that they get control of the airport so that they could fly in supplies to the people. This request was granted, but no military could pass through the airport, nor could the UN aid the escape of Sarejevans. The Bosnians then constructed a plan to dig a tunnel from Sarajevo to the free Bosnian territory on the other side of the airport. Their plan worked and thousands of lives were saved, more supplies were given to the people, communication could be had with the outside, and army personnel could move into the city to protect the people inside. Getting to this museum is no cakewalk. We were given a map which has some main roads on it then just has a big yellow glowing dot in the corner, a little less specific than I would like. I ended up getting quite flustered trying to find this place and ended up taking the emergency airport access road, realized my error and turned onto this dirt road leading into a small village and no signs. We get into the village both discussing how lost we are and how the tunnel museum would not be out the emergency access road and down this bumpy dirt road. Then I see a poster on someone's garage that says "TUNNEL." Now i am not only laughing, but slightly confused, as I thought that such an important museum would be filled with tourists and be very properly organized. Turns out that this museum is in the location of the exit of the original tunnel, which was built from someone's house. This family still lives in the house, so we walk up to this garage, no people in sight and a small sign says "ring bell for entrance." I awkwardly pushed the little buzzer and soon an elderly man came to the door, opened it, let us in, closed the door, and walked past us into his house. Hm...there were some artifacts around us, and we could see the opening to the tunnel. He then pops his head out and says to come in and shows a short clip about the war of 92-95 in Sarajevo. Though small and a little bit hard to find, this is a very good museum which pays great tribute to those who were killed in Sarajevo and tells a great history of the 92-95 war. Definitely deserves some applause.<br />We are not on our way to Dubrovnik and having a grand time this afternoon. The sun sets over the mountains, and as we drive we hit a gravel road. We should be nearing croatia. Then I think, "The highways in Bosnia are very small and not very proper for national highways, but this is a little bit absurd." We are following this little red clunker down this road and he stops, and gets out, and walks up to our car. Ok, I'm scared now. I roll down my window and he asks us where we are going after shaking both of our hands through the window (weird?). He speaks almost no english but manages to inform us that we are lost in the middle of Bosnia. Well, so much for getting to Croatia. We turn back and realize our missed turn about 90 mins behind us, and finally arrive at the border at about 2am. Bosnia is going to get one more best of from Aaron. Bosnia gets the best of for best border crossing. I'm sure most of you are familiar with the bars that move up and down, like in a parking garage, at the exit which lets you out after you pay. The little man inside the machine tells the bar to go up. Well, in Bosnia we do things differently. After examining our passports the man walked to the front of the car, picked up the bar, and allowed us through. As soon as we passed the man we both started cracking up. Best border crossing: Bosnia and Herzegovina.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/215/466250572_50ff68e01b_m.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 297px; height: 223px;" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/215/466250572_50ff68e01b_m.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">Day 14: Montenegro - <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/7890419@N03/sets/72157600099313116/detail/">Photos</a></span><br />The newest country in the world, and you could already tell by their newly built border crossing just south of Dubrovnik. The initial drive from the border to Kotor was already stunning as we drove into the bay of Kotor and saw the mountains rising over a silvery sea of glass covered with fog melting into the sky. On arriving in Kotor we realized we were out of euros and only had our remaining Croatian Kuna and Bosnian Marks, so we hurried to the grocery store for an atm and to buy our next meals. After selecting our feasts (bread, nutella, cheese, juice) we made our way back to the car for breakfast, and then a nice hike in Kotor. Kotor is a little walled city that has a fortress up on the hill protecting the large bay. Very picturesque. We hiked up to the fort (a grueling amount of steps) and overlooked the bay in all of its glory cuddling with the steep rocky mountains and red-roofed towns at its shores. After exploring the ruins of the fort we enjoyed a nice cup of coffee in Kotor and explored its narrow pathways. Our next idea was to visit another city called Cetinje, which required a very extensive series of switchbacks and took us high into the mountains above the clouds. It was glorious. The road, not so glorious as each turn you had to be afraid of another car coming around the corner because there are no mirrors and the roads are so narrow. Passing was a bit of a dance. On our way to Cetinje we decided to do some hiking. Montenegro was named by Italian speakers after the "black mountain" or "monte negro." So, what better for us to do than climb the tallest mountain in Montenegro! It normally has a road very near to its summit, but the road was too high with snow, so we left Gretchen down the road and began a long wet hike up to this peak. We were not prepared for snow, so our little toes had a little more than the hike they had bargained for. After reaching the top, our panting lungs were silenced by the marvelous beauty that surrounded us. It is rumored that from the top of this mountain, Mt. Lovcen, you can see Italy on a clear day. Most definitely you could see Croatia, Albania, and Serbia. Rather than hiking down the road like we came, we decided to just jump through the snow down towards the car. Yes, it was deep and at times up to your waist in snow, but it was more fun and saved time right?! :). At the bottom we quickly turned on the heat in Gretchen and changed clothes. The rest of the day our pants were flapping in the wind in all of their glory! Some people hang flags from their cars, we hang our pants.<br />By the time our toes had reached a normal temperature, we drove back to Kotor and enjoyed some beaches on the way home for sunset, and thus began Croatia.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Day 15: Dubrovnik - <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/7890419@N03/sets/72157600099641852/detail/">Photos</a></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/181/466365599_1d16f4c637_m.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 200px;" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/181/466365599_1d16f4c637_m.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Dubrovnik was exactly what it was supposed to be. A beautiful walled city overlooking the Adriatic sea with white washed walls, cute cafes, and a tourist market like no other. I enjoyed it very much. We were able to walk along the wall around the entire city and see the views of Dubrovnik, 360 degrees. But what made Dubrovnik the best was the end. I am a big fan of sunsets if you haven't already noticed from my pictures, so we drove to the outermost part of the land and parked at the "Dubrovnik Palace." (It’s only a hotel, don’t get excited). We then took a nice walk through a forest and after about an hour ended up at this hill overlooking the ocean with radio towers on top. Well, I followed my curiosity and hiked all the way to the towers. To my great surprise, I found a rock, my rock, from which I could see Dubrovnik to the south and the sun to the west. It was truly a beautiful sunset. A sunset in silence, listening to the beauty of silence, with only the wind in the trees to color its lifeless calm.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/183/466398507_6642ed419f_m.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 287px;" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/183/466398507_6642ed419f_m.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">Day 16: Dalmation Coast – <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/7890419@N03/sets/72157600099377149/detail/">Photos</a></span><br />Talk about beautiful. This was a hurried day of travel mixed with quick but satisfying tidbits along the way. We started in Split, which was not so much of a winner in my book. And quickly passed through its old city and then drove to Salona, a site of roman ruins near to Split. Interesting, but a very ruined site. Also, it was not separated from the community of people actually living in Salona. There are not well-marked paths in this little treasure so we often found ourselves wandering into someone’s yard when we thought it was a site. Well, you win some, you lose some. Once again we quickly passed to Trogir and finally found something that really sparked our interest. Trogir is a little island city very close to the mainland (connected by bridge). Another walled city, Trogir is a place to enjoy by walking and enjoying the coastal views, harbor boats, cafes, and forts. There was a very nice tower at the end of the island that we explored. We did need to keep moving though, if we were to make our final destinations. We took a nap along the water, then continued north until we reached Zadar. We found our hostel and quickly took showers (as we had been sleeping in the car for 5 nights) and then enjoyed yet again, a very beautiful, walled city on the Dalmation coast. In order to really get the full rich experience, we needed to enjoy a bite of gelato. Well, we decided that the 65 year old woman in the gelato shop had the hots for me. I asked her for a two scoop and what did I come out with? 3 scoops and an extra cone! David only got one scoop, one cone, and in my opinion, not nearly as much fun in the gelato shop as me. We watched the sunset and then treated ourselves to a nice Italian dinner. Thanks to advice from sister Andrea last year, I had gnocchi in a four cheese cream sauce..mmm ☺. Definitely a good way to end that day wouldn’t you say?!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/170/466470105_c667ff4991_m.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 319px; height: 238px;" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/170/466470105_c667ff4991_m.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Day 17: Plitvich Lakes – <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/7890419@N03/sets/72157600100099020/detail/">Photos</a></span><br />If you want to end a trip well, end it by hiking for 6 hours around a series of 16 lakes connected by endless waterfalls. Six hours spent in sheer beauty in the heart of nature. This place is extraordinary. Check the pictures, they’ll speak for themselves.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Day 18: Zagreb and home!</span><br />Thus, after 17 beautiful days in Eastern Europe, I took my train to Zagreb, hiked it to the airport, and spent the next 10 hours relishing how smoothly and wonderfully this trip went. Thanks for another amazing adventure. Life is beautiful, and we are surrounded with choices to drink it in. As I was hiking and commenting on the beauty around me I was also realizing how many places around Moscow and Boston that I have never visited. It’s a shame really. I’m learning more and more that the only way to live is to take life by the horns and tackle every opportunity. Use ever free moment to make someone smile and every free weekend to see something beautiful.Aaronnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2924659297436967811.post-65071140265208815342007-04-19T16:39:00.000+03:002007-04-22T01:09:59.582+03:00Jordan<span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Since the weekend of March 16th, I have not had a single weekend at home, which, when I'm in this part of the world, is very exciting.<br />At 12:10am on March 16th Sarah, my roommate David, and I hopped on a bus to Eilat, the southernmost city in Israel and the border crossing to both Jordan and Egypt. After 4 1/2 hours of faint sleeping we slugged off of the bus and walked through deserted Eilat. We had about 3 hours to wait for the border to open, and to our great fortune, found a coffee shop open all night. This is where we nestled in for the restless hours to come while sipping on strong coffees, reading travel books about Petra, and eating small cookie delights.</span></span></span></span></span><br /><span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:100%;">The hour finally came when we could pick up our rucksacks and head to the border. We arrived at the border about an hour early, and enjoyed the time watching the sun rise up over the Jordanian mountains to the east and enjoying the fact that we wouldn't have to wait for the packs of tourists that were starting to arrive.</span></span></span></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/170/466798888_bfcaa3320f.jpg?v=0"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 356px; height: 267px;" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/170/466798888_bfcaa3320f.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:100%;">At about 8:30, the gates opened, and we passed across no man's land into the Kingd</span></span></span></span></span><span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:100%;">om of Jordan, picked up a taxi, and began making our way to Petra. But this was no ordinary cab ride. The man, rather than turning north, turned to go towards the city of</span></span></span></span></span><span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> Aqaba. No words were said, because we figured this man may know a little more about Jordan than us. He flipped a U-turn and pulled up behind another car, sort of in the middle of nowhere and told us to get in. Well, as innocent tourists, we still found it to be a little strange to get into a random car in the middle of nowhere. Fortunately for this man, we had no other choice. It turns out that his story that they just wanted to switch the car so we co</span></span></span></span></span><span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:85%;">uld have a nicer ride was true! Fancy that!<br />After arriving in the city next to Petra and pulling up to our hotel, we paid the man (he was very nice to us in the car) and wished him farewell, moving on to the hotel. Now one thing you should know about Israel, Jordan, Turkey, and I would assume the bulk of the middle east, is that everyone is everyone else's brother, every shop is "my brothers shop," and somehow every middle eastern person is in the same family. Throughout the course of our 2 days in this hotel about 6 people told us they were brothers that owned the hotel. Well, true or not, they were very helpful, and very nice, young, and down to earth. I definitely recomment the "al Anbat Hotel 1" if you are ever traveling to Petra.</span><br /></span></span></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/189/466804912_337b7ada41.jpg?v=0"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 281px; height: 377px;" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/189/466804912_337b7ada41.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /></a><span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Petra! <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/7890419@N03/sets/72157600102570086/detail/"><span style="font-size:100%;"> Photos</span></a></span><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;">It is a little bit challenging to describe such a place, I must say, and I don't want to sound like a wikipedia article either, so <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Petra">here's a link</a> to it, in case you want to learn more :D.<br />What made Petra so great for me was our guide. In most tourist sites you expect that you'll be on a tour with a group of maybe 10 people or so. Well, at Petra you pay for your own guide, which is not expensive at all. Up walks this Jordanian man wearing a keffiyyeh (Jordanian headscarf) and he just starts talking to us. Now, usually I would never notice things like this, but this man had a sparkle in his eye which was really cool! And he laughed like Santa, so that made everything about 50000x better. Anyways, he was an excellent and knowledgeable guide as well as being very fun, and told strange stories that we never quite understood the point of. He took us on a grand tour, through the valley, and up over the city on the ridge of sacrifices. From there we could see the whole of Petra and as far as little Petra (where the Nabuteans actually lived). The experience of Petra is very interesting as it combines history with current Jordanian culture, and tourism, so to speak. There are bedouins that still live in the area and they make tea around the trails, and there are women and children begging, boys riding camels, donkeys, horses, and carriages, and little coves where the bedouins still spend their time. As you walk the streets you can see so much evidence of the past that you almost feel caught up in it. I liked it so much that I got up at 5am the next morning to sneak in a 2 hour hike around Petra before we left to Wadi Rum!</span></span></span></span><span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:78%;"> </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Wadi Rum <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/7890419@N03/sets/72157600102294719/detail/">Photos</a> <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wadi_rum">Wikipedia :)</a></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">I never knew how beautiful the desert was until I came here. It is the filming location for "Lawrence of Arabia" if any of you are interested :). This place is absolutely magnificent in size, beauty, formation, color, and culture. There are a few bedouin tribes that still roam the area and make camp in this reserve. A nice muslim man took us on a Jeep tour through this wonderful place.</span></span></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/188/466995085_2167a60f8a_b.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 638px; height: 173px;" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/188/466995085_2167a60f8a_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/188/466995085_2167a60f8a_b.jpg"><span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:78%;"></span></span></span></span></a><span style="font-size:78%;"> Photo courtesy of David Scaduto and Roommate Productions</span>Aaronnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2924659297436967811.post-39876271390921964722007-04-18T16:42:00.000+03:002007-04-22T01:07:54.289+03:00Playing catch up - March<span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-size:130%;">March</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></span></span><span>The month of March sort of caught me by surprise. As you probably noticed it was my first large update gap. Well, the first month I was in class 4 hours a day and had the afternoons to go to the beach and pretty much do whatever I wanted all the time. The came the first week of classes and KABOOM...whirlwind of stuff to do all of the time. So, unfortunately my internet time, and tanning time, and all that stuff got pushed to the weekends. BUT, it's still beautiful, and I'm still having a wonderful time. I can also be very thankful that I've been able to travel on my weekends, and that is the most exciting part, and is therefore what I want to write about.<br />In March I took 2 main trips, one to the north and one to the south.<br /></span><br /><span><span style="font-size:130%;">North Trip 1 - <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/7890419@N03/sets/72157600102920549/detail/">Photos</a></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/182/467119082_efe4e37f8b.jpg?v=0"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 246px; height: 329px;" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/182/467119082_efe4e37f8b.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /></a><span><br />Early on Friday morning, me, David, Erin and Sarah pack our stuff up and headed to the Hilton (exotic eh?). end post.<br /><br /><br />I mean...we went to the Hilton, and on arriving, made our way to the rental car office. Picked up a cute silver 4-door and headed out the door. Renting a car is fun. After being void of simple transportation I found myself uncontrollably smiling (I know, nerdy right?) as we pumped some techno music, the wind in our hair, and the big open road.<br />After a few hours (yay for Israel being so small) we arrived at the northern border and found the Kibbutz (Jewish settlements based upon communal living) we were staying on and dropped our stuff in our rooms. We spent our remaining daylight driving along the Lebanese border and walking around some of the small towns in the area.<br />Our second day here was one of the best days I've had in Israel so far. First we drove to the Hula Valley Nature Reserve and enjoyed the swampland and many animals in the area. But the real story is the Yehudiyah Nature Reserve. Absolutely gorgeous. David and I split off from the girls in order to do a more difficult hike and spent the next 5 hours exploring such beauty, and doing one of the most difficult hikes I've ever done. We hiked into the valley three times, and what happens every time you get in a valley? You hike back out! Needless to say, my thighs were burnin' like Aunt Jemima's pancakes in Mexico, but it was well worth it. This place is filled with valleys, rivers, streams, pools, and flower covered fields. But of greatest mention are the hexagon pools. The cooling of some of these basalt formations caused the rocks all surrounding the pools to be formed in hexagon shapes, they are very neat to look at and fun to climb on. Check out the pictures to get a real taste!<br />The second trip of the month was Jordan, and the third trip happened the weekend just before I left for Italy! So as you can see, it got a little bit crowded, but I ain't complaining!<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/186/467059761_b30453285a.jpg?v=0"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 312px; height: 234px;" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/186/467059761_b30453285a.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /></a><span><span style="font-size:130%;">South Trip - <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/7890419@N03/sets/72157600103085504/detail/">Photos</a></span><br />The south trip was organized by the overseas students office and include a nice 3 days of hiking, eating, and swimming. Day 1 was spent hiking in the "maktesh," one of the largest craters in Israel, and even the world. It's big :). That evening we arrived at our surprisingly nice hotel next to the dead sea and prepared for a big shabbat dinner hosted by the overseas office. Let me tell you, on these trips, the like to FEED you. And that is exactly what they did, all day long, especially for shabbat. After dinner a group of friends and I headed to the local bedouin tent for belly dancing (viewing, I'm not much of a belly dancer, though I hear it's great exercise) and enjoyed a nice evening with what I like to call, the European Union. A combination of, what seems like, the entire european population in the program adopted me as an honorary member as well as Laura and Zach. So, this is the evening I spent with the European Union, watching belly dancing, eating watermelon, drinking...drinks :), and sitting on big fluffy pillows on the floor.<br />Unfortunately, something they like to do on OSP trips is get up really early. So around 6 they come knocking on your door so everyone can have enough time to shower and get ready before breakfast and a long day of hiking. So when we woke up, the weather was absolutely terrible. Winds whipping around and torrential rains falling on our hotel. But, for me, this was a good thing. There are 5 busses of students on this trip, but i wouldn't qualify all of these students as "trekkers." So, despite the rain, a bus and a half of people still went out to hike in the Judean desert. Well, by the time we got there, the rains had been stopped (Thanks!) and we enjoyed a dry beautiful day in the desert. (see photos) This evening was spent in the desert eating a bedouin dinner followed by a big music show put on by a group from Tel Aviv. They took us on a "tour of the world through music" playing different very exotic instruments and performing traditional dances. They were very funny, entertaining, and gymnastic :). One instrument they showed was this thing that looked like a UFO which they make in Switzerland. It's like an inverted steel drum, so when you tap it (with your fingers, no sticks) t</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/170/467061543_af4b5c1b2d.jpg?v=0"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 360px; height: 269px;" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/170/467061543_af4b5c1b2d.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /></a><span>hen it makes this nice strong tone. I want one, so if anyone has one they don't want, or in fact, even kn</span><span>ows what this instrument is called, please let me know!</span><br /><span>Finally, on day 3 we hiked in</span><span> Ein Geddi,</span><span> a</span><span>n</span><span> oasis in the des</span><span>ert near to the Dead Se</span><span>a and t</span><span>hen finally ended the trip with a nice swim in the Dead Sea. Oh how I love Israel!<br />As a side note, to end this all off with something we can all appreciate:<br />I enjoyed my first McDonalds meal in Israel on the way home :), and it tastes...just like home.<br />Thanks for readin!</span><br /><span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></span></span>Aaronnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2924659297436967811.post-44311430120029213762007-03-29T05:39:00.000+03:002007-04-21T17:00:44.916+03:00Pre-Europe tidbitHello all,<br />It has been a while since my last update and I have heard that some are interested in my current whereabouts and activities. My life here drastically changed from a simple Hebrew class every day to a full schedule of engineering courses, reading assignments, and lab write ups. And, with that said, it is only fitting that the only time I have found to write this update is now, let me paint a picture:<br />The clock in the upper right hand corner of the screen reads 5:03 am. I have an electronic post-it informing me that I need to leave my apartment by 6:50am. Approximately 7.3 minutes ago I put the final touches on my packing and gave my parents a quick run down of my approximate location for the next 17 days. I haven't slept much this week, and I am hoping to squeeze in 30 mins of zzz's before my relaxing shower before a day of travel. I love life!<br />Tomorrow morning at 9:40am I embark on my newest adventure (as if my life in general isn't one already). I am flying to Rome to meet a good friend of mine, Sabrina, who is currently studying in northern Italy. After spending a few days in Rome, I will travel north through Italy, and eventually end up in Venice where Sabrina will be my private tour guide of the area, although, I'm not quite sure of her gondola skills...<br />Next Wednesday I will hopefully make a quick trip up to Vienna, Austria and then back down to meet my roommate David in Ljubljana, Slovenia. This is where the real fun begins: we have no plans from this day until we fly home on April 15th. We have our rental car and the beauty of the Balkan states (Slovenia, Croatia, Bosnia, Montenegro, and Serbia) at our fingertips and nothing but the wind to guide us. I have great expectations. Any experienced travelers in these states feel free to give me tips!<br />Most recently, I have been quite busy with school but finally managed to squeeze in a short trip to Jordan where we saw Petra and Wadi Rum, a desert preserve in southern Jordan. Both were incredible. I will try to tell some stories later.<br />Then last weekend I made a tour of some of southern Israel. Three days of hiking: 1-in the "maktesh" the large craters in southern Israel, 2-In the Judean desert (beautiful) on the syrian-african rift (if you're interested in plate techtonics and/or pangea), and day 3 was spent hiking around ein gedi, a desert oasis near to the dead sea with some remarkable views. That afternoon I enjoyed the most buoyant feeling that I ever have felt in my life. Swimming in the dead sea is something beyond words, but perhaps, in another episode I will put my writing abilities to the test :).<br />I apologize for this being so brief, but I am racing the clock.<br />I will try to keep the updates coming more as I get back into a travel swing, and may even fill in some of the missing gaps from the last few weeks. :)<br />Pictures are the best way to portray everything that is happening. I have not had the time yet to make an online album. So, I will put a link to my roommate, David's, photos. We have been together for almost all of the traveling and he is a good photographer. Enjoy them and I will supplement them later.<br />This has been short and sweet but it definitely has the raw flavor of an "update."<br />I hope all is well with each and every one of you.<br />-AaronAaronnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2924659297436967811.post-60310039623828117142007-02-18T18:35:00.000+03:002007-04-21T17:19:25.874+03:00I've got sunshine!Shalom! שלום!<br />Currently, the room which I initially described as white, bare,<br />empty, and dirty, is being filled with beautiful sunlight, and I can<br />gladly call this small apartment my home. Yesterday I not only<br />walked to the beach (which I am blessed to do often), but I did so in<br />just a t-shirt and waded into the warm waters of the mediterranean<br />with some friends from school. Other days I have spent playing<br />rummikub on the beach and watching the sunset, drinking a cappuccino<br />in whatever coffee shop I stumble on to, or perusing the markets for<br />whatever my little heart desires :).<br />The markets here, "ha shuk caramel" and the flea market in Jaffa, are<br />those kinds of places which provide a complete sensation. There are<br />the pleasant smells of the fresh baking bread and the most vividly<br />colored red peppers and tomatoes. Strawberries are bulging and<br />placed next to the kiwis, pomleos, pomegranates, and bananas. The<br />street is endless and arranged in sections of fruits, vegetables,<br />meat, cheese, clothes, and scattered throughout are the remaining<br />shops which have everything else you could think of. If any of you<br />are like my family, a trip to costco is not just to buy lots and lots<br />of food, but it is also a joyous occasion for a family meal as we<br />walk up and down each aisle making sure not to miss one of those red-<br />checkered white-haired women slaving over their microwave friendly<br />delectables. This is a close corollary to life in the shuk as I have<br />no doubt taken advantage of my fair share of free samples, so each<br />visit is a wonderful experience. In fact, as I was innocently<br />strolling through the center of the market yesterday, a man grabbed<br />my hand and proceeded to spoon a large heap of rice and spices into<br />it. Now, those of you that live in the US know that your parents<br />told you never to eat an opened candy on halloween. Well, these<br />thoughts came to my mind as I am staring down this pile of greasy<br />rice resting in my hand that has been given to my by a complete<br />stranger! I'm sure you can relate to my response of just looking<br />dumbly confused as the man encouraged me to eat this treat. But,<br />once realizing my lack of options, I gave in to the divine smell and<br />devoured the rice with my hands much like the scene in "Beauty and<br />the Beast" where the beast slurps down his cream of wheat to Bell's<br />dismay. But, I HAVE NO SHAME, and am proud to say that this was some<br />of the most delicious rice I have ever tasted. So, because of the<br />free rice which was so good, I crumbled to the man's cheesy smile and<br />cheap salesman tricks and bought some spices from him to make tea<br />back at home. Call me a softie, but that rice was good! It is also<br />very enjoyable to hear the shop owners screaming out their "special<br />prices" for their "special friends." I've apparently been made best<br />friends with most shop owners due to my skin color, but the<br />experiences of making them laugh while bargaining for the best price<br />is priceless and a great skill for a good number of markets all<br />around the world! I even have my own juice lady! Each time I go to<br />the market, which is almost daily, I go to visit my juice lady who<br />fresh squeezes me her daily special so that I can try each delicious<br />blend of tropical delight. Needless to say, life is "70 degree<br />good" :).<br />I have began referring to myself as the eternal optimist. More and<br />more I find myself realizing the beauty we are blessed with each day,<br />enveloping us in warmth, color, and life.<br />My grandfather used to say "Be blessed and be a blessing." Well, I<br />sure hope that I am being a blessing because I am being blessed greatly.<br /><br />Many of you have asked for details about my trip to Petra, well, it<br />has been postponed because we are sleeping outside and Jordan had<br />snow...so, we will be doing that trip later :). But I am planning on<br />a trip to hike Mt. Sinai on one of my weekends, and next weekend will<br />be going north to volunteer for an agricultural organization and<br />spending shabbat in a protected forest watching one of the largest<br />bird migrations in the world.<br />Speaking of trees, last Tuesday I went out of town with some people<br />from the Jewish National Fund to plant a few trees as more of a<br />tourist than an volunteer. It is custom to plant a tree on your<br />first visit to Israel. So, I chose to plant two trees:<br />My first tree I planted for Kay White a dear friend of my family<br />who is currently battling cancer (prayers and thoughts appreciated).<br />Secondly, I planted a tree in celebratory remembrance of my<br />grandfather Bernard Seaman, one of my great inspirations, and my<br />beautiful and incredible grandmother Gertrude who is brightening the<br />world each day with her life and love.<br />I have attached at the end the Jewish prayer that is said when trees<br />are planted in Israel, if anyone is interested :).<br /><br />And last, but surely not least, I spent last weekend in Jerusalem, (Photos)<br />which proved to be one of the most spur of the moment trips of my<br />life. We spent the morning that we arrived meeting a UN friend who<br />is working on mental health programs for children traumatized by war<br />in the Gaza Strip. She just moved to live there full time last<br />weekend. We spent the day enjoying both the old and new cities, and<br />wanted to enter the old city via the Damascus gate in the Muslim<br />quarter. As we arrived, the gate was surrounded by around one-<br />hundred guards and there were arabs running out of the gate,<br />something which struck us as a little strange. They granted us<br />access to the city because the friend lives in the old city and has a<br />high level of Israeli security clearance. We then heard, (once we<br />were already in the city) that we should not go into the city because<br />there was rioting, tear gassing, rubber bullets, and some fighting in<br />the center. We all looked around with worried grins as we were<br />already in the place that we were being told not to go, fortunately<br />we were still in the peaceful Christian quarter and were able to<br />evacuate the city with little hassle. The following days had very<br />high security throughout the city, with random checkpoints and a<br />greatly increased number of Israeli Defense Force (IDF) soldiers at<br />every street corner.<br />That evening was an experience. We were invited by this UN friend to<br />have dinner with her and "some friends." Turns out we had pizza with<br />a group of british and swiss UN workers, most of whom had worked in<br />Gaza, and 3 who were kidnapped in Gaza. They related that the<br />kidnapping experience was actually quite enjoyable as they were<br />treated nicely and offered tea and snacks for the period while they<br />were waiting for a response from the government. As most of the<br />kidnappings there are only for some political reason or to get<br />someone out of jail, the entire process really only entailed (for<br />them at least) a 3ish hour commitment, fancy that! And I'm sure it's<br />always great to have a story that you got kidnapped in Gaza, no<br />sweat :). So after, I believe, 5 bottles of wine and 6 pizzas we all<br />piled into a caravan of UN vehicles and made our way to a UN building<br />for a evening party. Yes, it's true, I spent the evening having a<br />few drinks and dancing the night away with UN dignitaries from all<br />around the world. Not quite the experience I expected, and<br />definitely a fresh view on the reality of life for those in the UN.<br />How cool is that??!!<br />And just on a fun note, the entire day was spent answering the<br />question "where are you from?," with "America, Switzerland, Canada,<br />and Germany, we're a variety pack!" :).<br />The next day we crossed the Palestinian border and visited Bethlehem<br />and its various landmarks. We had a christian arab tour guide who<br />explained everything in decent detail. The coolest of the places<br />though was a less famous place called Herodion, a hidden castle which<br />Herod had built as a final stronghold in case of attack. It is a<br />manmade mountain, so coming up to it you have no idea, but when you<br />enter this small crevice in the rock, you are inside of a castle!<br />It's incredible! Once at the top you are surrounded by columns which<br />used to support grand halls and roman baths and finally, from the top<br />is the most gorgeous view of Bethlehem, the dead sea, the judean<br />desert, and surrounding countryside. Breathtaking.<br /><br />Keep your eyes open for middle eastern news. A lot is going on these<br />days and with the building of the new bridge from the jewish quarter<br />to the temple mount (muslim quarter), there is a lot more unrest in<br />the muslim world. Israeli and Palestinian tensions are slightly<br />increased, and Egypt's political ties to Israel are in danger of<br />termination. Only time will tell what happens around here.<br /><br />I am in my last week of intensive hebrew school and will begin<br />engineering classes next monday. I hope the excitement continues as<br />I continue exploring this wonderful place.<br />Hope all is well! And thanks for reading.<br /><br /><br />Prayer for Planting Trees in Israel:<br /><br />Heavenly Father - אבינו שבשמים<br />Thou who buildest Zion and Jerusalem–בונה ציון<br />וירושלים<br />Take pleasure in Thy land–ומכוץ מלכות ישראל<br />And bestow upon it of Thy goodness–רצה הי ארצך<br />And Thy grace.–והשפע עליה מטוב חסדך.<br /><br />Give dew for a blessing<br />And cause beneficient rains<br />To fall in their season,<br />To satiate the mountains of Israel<br />And her valleys,<br />And to water thereon<br />Every plant and tree,<br />And these saplings<br />Which we plant before thee this day.<br /><br />Make deep their roots<br />And wide their crown,<br />That they may blossom forth in grace<br />Amongst all the trees in Israel,<br />For good and for beauty.<br /><br />And strengthen the hands<br />Of all our brethren,<br />Who toil to revive the sacred soil<br />And make fruitful its wastes.<br />Bless, o Lord, their might,<br />And may the work of their hands<br />Find favour before Thee.<br /><br />Look down from Thy holy habitation,<br />From heaven,<br />And bless this land<br />That it may flow again<br />With milk and honey.<br /><br />Amen – אמן<br /><br /><br /><br />Shalom! -Aaron שלום–אהרון!!Aaronnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2924659297436967811.post-56067958343748118282007-02-04T20:00:00.000+03:002007-04-20T00:11:44.383+03:002 weeksI officially have two weeks of Israel under my belt and I must say that it is spectacular. I'm settled in now, I have my favorite grocery store, I can ride the busses around the city, and am familiar enough to get around where I need to go. I've finished my first week of Ulpan (Hebrew School) and am already picking out approximately 5% of the words in a given conversation, but that's better than zero! Already I am able to write in Hebrew script and read. I just need to know more words! If anyone wants to teach me some Hebrew words please send a quick reply!<br />I have written a lot about the sunshine which regularly floods my windows, but the last few days I have been awed in other ways. I took a walk in the thunderstorm last night and have never heard such massive booming in the skies, and have never been so shocked by the flashes of lightning surrounding my head. Talk about incredible! I'm sure this is not native to Israel, but I was having a moment, okay?! Likewise, sitting on the rocks on the Mediterranean yesterday as the uneasy seas crashed up in front of my face, slowly transferring my clothes from dry and comfortable, to soggy and quite the opposite :). None the less, the walk home from the beach was enjoyable. But, before we left the harbor I had the most interesting dining experience of my life, of which I feel led to tell you all of now :). Story Time!!<br /> We were looking for a place that we could get a drink, perhaps a small snack, so we bypassed all of the ocean-front restaurants and found one that looked like a shack overlooking the harbor knowing that it would be cheap, fun, and young. Waitresses and waiters clad in black t-shirts scurried about, and many families sitting around big tables enjoying their "catch of the day" laughed and enjoyed themselves. Once we had really gotten inside, we found that our rolled up jeans, sandy shoes, and bulging backpacks were not quite the standard for this restaurant, but we were set on getting our afternoon snack! We were quickly shuffled to a small table (4 of us) and rather than brining us the expected menu's and perhaps glasses of water, the waitress brought out 6 triangular shaped dishes filled with very colorful sauces and vegetables. She smiled at our confused faces as I was sure that she had not delivered to the appropriate table. About 25 seconds later, following 25 seconds of confused conversation the waitress appears with 6 more triangular dishes, at which point she smiles again and told me not to worry, as I apparently was the most obviously concerned with my pocketbook. I knew thought from the prior 25 second experience what that smile meant. Once again, she appeared (after having set 12 dishes already) with a large salad bowl, a spicy fish, a stuffed eggplant, a bowl of rolls, a pitcher of water, and yet another friendly assurance that everything would be okay. As you can imagine, we were all somewhat stunned and began chuckling and looking at each other all simultaneously thinking: this is going to be expensive, but no turning back now! So, with that, we began dipping our rolls, filling our plates, and enjoying these divine blessings. If you remember from the beginning of this story, we were sat at a small table for four. Now this is not an Applebees table at which they seat 4 yet could probably seat 6 grown adults, a high-chair, and one of those massive pumpkins you see at the fair, it was a small 4 person table. As most of you know, I am not the smallest of people, so If you let yourself imagine for a moment, Aaron, some sort of juicy fish on his right, 12 dishes in front and a stuffed eggplant on his left, there was no more room for me to function than my small plate measuring six inches in diameter. If you have ever sat next to Emily (my sister) who is a left handed eater during a meal, you know what kind of compact conditions this can create. I dove into this beautiful array of brightly colored dishes knowing that, if I was paying for this, I was going to enjoy it! Soon the waitress again came out and asked us what we wanted to eat. I daintily wiped my face, making sure not to knock any dishes off the table by actually putting my arm up to reach the face but instead with a more awkward, stiff armed gesture. Again, we were all confused, not having seen a menu, or being offered any choices, it seemed like some sort of game to play with the stupid Americans :). After lots of explaining, a second waiter, and many non-understood sentences, they had taken our order, an order whose contents were unknown to us. We continued enjoying our treats and soon our meal had arrived. First the girls, of course, whose cuts of white fish looked divine and smothered in lemon-butter sauce. But then, my plate came, and it wasn't the nice piece of white fish I expected to receive as well, it was a fish...a full fish that had been cut in half, and cooked. Bones, tail, fins, eyes, let your imagination go wild. I once again decided to take life by the horns and began devouring this poor little fishy whom I decided to name Herbert. Twenty minutes later, Herbert was no more, we received a surprisingly decently priced bill, and headed back home, stomachs full, and faces aglow. This is the story of the 20-dish table.<br /> In other news, I am leaving early Friday morning with a group of 5 other students and a private guide to Petra and its surrounding Jordanian landscape. I have heard, and believe that Petra may be on the list of the worlds most spectacular places to visit. Fortunately as well, having a small group and private guide, we will not hop off of a bus and take quick pictures of the facade, instead we will be spending 2 days hiking around the mountains of Petra and seeing even more history of the people who once inhabited the area. Also, we will be spending the evenings in a bedouin camp, sleeping around the fire, and eating what is claimed to be some of the best meat in the world. I will surely update you all once arriving back home.<br /><br />It has been great hearing from all of you in your replies. Thank you for reading. I hope all is well with each and every one of you.<br />-AaronAaronnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2924659297436967811.post-65689547138384962062007-01-28T23:57:00.000+03:002007-04-20T00:13:33.790+03:00YerushalayimToday was incredible.<br /><br /><br />Those two spaces are for intensity and to symbolize some sort of a cliff hanger, but just to leave you hanging a little longer, I will write of Jerusalem in the next paragraph. I've received numerous emails asking what I'm doing in Tel Aviv, which, I guess, merits a little bit of explanation besides "school." Tel Aviv University has around 200 overseas students this semester, 196 of whom are in a regular study abroad program like anywhere else. For the first year, Boston University (yay BU) is pioneering it's third engineering-specific study abroad program (the first two in Dresden, Germany and Guadalajara, Mexico) allowing engineers to go abroad while not losing ground on the rigorous engineering requirements. So, there are four students from BU in the program, which may prove to be a little awkward when there are four students to a professor, but I am looking forward to the new experience. None of us know hebrew, though some of the other overseas students have various skill levels. We spend the first month in Hebrew school (Ulpan) and then begin engineering in late February. I really hope that my time in "level 0" hebrew will push me to a usable ability by the time that I leave. So, that is why I am here :).<br /><br />Now, on to Jerusalem.<br />Jerusalem invoked an interesting feeling. It's filled with walls. I first felt a great sense of excitement, but as the initial excitement wore off, I was looking at a world of division. Jerusalem is a place of sadness and hope. Being a center of so many religious beliefs, it seems like it should be a place of joy, but unfortunately, it is not. And i was thinking about how in religion, it is truly the pursuit of happiness through a god and a peace of mind that we all seek by having an answer for life's most unanswered questions. A place that is based upon faith is so dominated by fear rather than peace, hatred instead of love. I am reminded of a verse in the bible that says that these three: faith, hope, and love remain, but the greatest is love. What I saw was hope and faith. Jerusalem is a city of hope, but not of love. A city of faith, but not of peace. The most important element, not only to religion, but to our world is love and my goal is to infuse just a small portion of love into my world, so that somehow I can make a positive difference in the healing of hatred and anger through my love.<br />On a more, travel-junkie kind of note, for those that are interested in my less philosophical diatribes, what I loved about Jerusalem was white. The city is made with Jerusalem stone so every wall is made of a light sandy colored stone making the city look so beautiful and clean. We spent most of the day in the old city walking through all but the muslim quarter of the city which I plan to see later. The church of the holy sepulchre was quite the place to visit. It felt very spiritual yet, being in a group of students almost completely Jewish, it was difficult to take seriously. I was glad though, to be able to see these places of such important religious meaning. For me, I was awestruck to see those places, but it still is faith which makes me believe what I do, and so the places functioned as a sort of reminder and made me very thoughtful. I hope that when I return to Jerusalem I can see these places in a less tour oriented way and really grasp a more complete and meaningful picture of what it all means. We also went to the wailing wall, which, though a Jewish icon, was the most meaningful location to me. To see true passion really stirred my heart. The tears which have been shed on that wall are so visible in the faces and spirits of those who were there. Pretty amazing place. We also drove to a few lookout points to get good pictures and give a more complete view of how the city is set and historically how it has grown. We spent a while at one spot looking down from a jewish village, which, for years, was only a spot of shooting and death. A wall now protects the village from their arab neighbors. From the same point we saw the end of "the wall" separating Israel from Palestine. It is not yet finished and ends in the outskirts of Jerusalem and is followed by a fence. These walls which cover the city all represent some sort of division. It is a beautiful and divided city.<br />Jerusalem was last Wednesday. Today is Sunday. I've spent a few days at the beach on the beautiful mediterranean. I cannot complain :). I've also been exploring various parts of Tel Aviv and Jaffa and am growing to love Israel more and more each day. This is truly an amazing country. Today was my first day of Hebrew. It was hard, but I am also very excited about beginning to learn. Perhaps I'll have some fun things to say to you all when I return home.<br />For those of you who want to chat, I'll have internet sometime soon in my room, I hope :).<br />For the first night in over a month I can honestly say I need to go study.<br />This update was very difficult to write as the feelings I felt in Jerusalem were very hard to explain, but I trust that a portion of what this place means has been passed on from me to you.<br />I hope all is well with all of you. Thanks for reading!<br />-AaronAaronnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2924659297436967811.post-11571866705242704082007-01-23T20:01:00.000+03:002007-04-20T00:02:31.111+03:00I Have Arrived!Hello and welcome to the second episode.<br />I arrived in Tel Aviv around 2 in the morning on Monday, only to have to sit in the airport for 6 hours until a decent time to arrive on campus. Thankfully, free wireless internet saw me through and I made it to the end of my journey: a slightly messy and uncleaned apartment that has already offered me some charm which I can call "home." It's white dirty walls and paper-thin mattress', cold water and no heating only fade away as the beautiful mediterranean sunlight floods in the window and the sounds of the school children nearby are welcomed into my ears. There's more to life than marbled bathrooms and clean porcelain toilet bowls. There's the palm trees that greet my every glance down my street. There's the man who barely speaks english in the kabob shop who takes such delight in being able to use his few licks of broken english, and there's the open-air markets which, through my travels, I've come to love so much. I can say life has offered me a lot. I am so glad to be here and to begin making "home" of this place. Orientation was today as well as a hebrew placement exam, which, I'll be honest, would have placed me in the 0- group if it existed, but alas, the 0 group shall be my home. I have become friends with the local supermarket and have become accustomed to multiple stares as, instead of reading labels, I am forced to peer into the small clear openings inside of containers to determine the contents of the packages on the shelves. Yay for pictures eh? Our apartment is now furnished with a shower curtain, mat, 2 bowls, and 2 cups thanks to the trip to the market, and my most favorite purchase, a blanket. Thanks to my wonderful sister, I have a sleep sack with me to use as sheets which she got in Africa. What I failed to recognize was that, though I am in a palm tree infested environment, it still is winter. Needless to say, my first night in Tel Aviv was spent cuddling into a small ball wrapped in warm pj's and a sweatshirt trying my hardest to keep my eyes shut (jet lag may perhaps play into this equation as well). All of these things said, I must say that I am so glad to be here. Every place has its ups and downs and I am glad to take warmth in the good things surrounding me. I am delighted to enjoy the differences in this culture and begin to immerse myself into a new world of which I know nothing. Hopefully my Hebrew will begin to be useful and my ability to interact with this amazing place will be greatly increased.<br />Tomorrow I am taking a day trip to Jerusalem led by our counselors which is very exciting and we start our Ulpan (Hebrew school) on Sunday (the beginning of the week).<br />I promise not to send updates so often that they get boring, but I thought many of you would be curious as to how the first day went with all of its new changes.<br />If you have made it this far, thanks for your interest and I hope that you continue reading as I continue writing this "email story."<br />Here's some info for those who are interested, if you recall, in the last email cookies were mentioned :)<br /><br />I currently have to go to coffee shops for internet, but soon will have it in my room for those of you who want to talk to me online (msn, aim, skype), but if you have that burning deep inside of you to give me a call, here's the scoop:<br /><br /><br />Telephone:<br />If you want to call, phone cards are probably the best way to go. I've used pennytalk in the past, and it works quite well. It's about 13c a minute to call me and likewise for me to call the US. So, skype is great, but it's good just to talk to someone every now and again :).<br />This is my number, complete with country codes and all:<br /><br />011-972-52-603-7221<br /><br /><br />Address:<br /><br />Aaron Seaman<br />The School for Overseas Students<br />Tel Aviv University, Carter Building<br />Ramat Aviv 69978, Tel Aviv, Israel<br /><br />I hope all is well!<br />-AaronAaronnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2924659297436967811.post-90813832874817061662007-01-21T19:34:00.000+03:002007-04-20T00:03:09.975+03:00Welcome!Hello Everyone!<br />I'd like to welcome you all to the story of Aaron Seaman's life :) as I stroll across the world. I'm sending this to people I thought and hoped would be interested, so if you're not interested in receiving my updates, or know some people who might want to, let me know so I can edit my mailing list. If you want this sent to a different address you can tell me that as well.<br /><br />After a trip to France to visit Emily, a trip to Nepal and southeast Asia to teach, and another trek across Europe, I am officially on my fourth voyage overseas.<br />I'm currently sitting in a botanical garden and city library in the center or Warsaw, Poland. After almost missing my flight out of Spokane, WA and a long six-hour layover in Chicago I have arrived. As most of you know, my final destination is Tel Aviv, Israel for school, and no, I am not lost in the middle of Poland. I was fortunate enough to have a 12-hour layover in Warsaw, or as the locals spell it, "Warzawa" and am here from 9am to 9pm, how convenient! So, now I can officially add Poland to my list of countries I've visited, and countries I'd like to visit again. In about an hour I'll be embarking on a city tour in order to get a quick glance at Warsaw, Poland, and world history.<br /><br />I hope this email finds you all well. I'll be updating when I can. In the next update I will include a mailing address, in case you want to send me cookies, flowers, presents, and any other extravagances :), and a phone number.<br />I'll also try to be online when nearby to my computer at school in Tel Aviv.<br /><br />MSN: aaronbseaman@hotmail.com<br />AIM: aaronbseaman<br />skype: aaronbseaman<br /><br />-Aaron SeamanAaronnoreply@blogger.com0